An de Souffrance
by Dimensional Traveler 009
Summary: Harry Potter is slandered by the Prophet for his claims on the Dark Lord's return. Harry faces A difficult year at Hogwarts as his Classmates resent and disapprove of the Boy-Who-Lies. Follow Harry as he fares through his 5th year facing Toads, Senile Headmasters and Prophet reading Classmates. All is not in vain for, Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times. HP/DG.
1. Chapter 1

**An de Souffrance**

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**Chapter 1: Prologue (Edited : June 23, 2015)  
**

Platform 9 3/4 was one of the places Harry James Potter held sacred, for it was one of solid proofs handed over to him, one of the places that erased his doubts of being a wizard. Even after acquiring his wand, owl, cauldrons, and what not, there had been a small part of him that feared the whole him being a wizard issue, to be a prank by the Dursleys.

The second he had emerged from the wall and stepped onto the platform and first hand witnessed the majestic one of a kind Hogwarts express he knew that he was a wizard. He would be off to Dursley free place, where he would be able to learn …. Whatever they taught Charms, Transfiguration, etc.

But the thought that had gained the most points in his heart of hearts was companionship, _Friends. _Something that he had been denied since his birth with the exception of few animals, for Dudley had seen to that. He had thought that he had friends, but how naive of think as such after the incident with Ron halway through summer.

He remembered stepping onto the same platform four years ago, his face all smiles on seeing the Hogwarts express, but now, seeing the same old train caused a small constriction to his heart. He looked around to find more than a few glares directed his way. Good thing that Sirius had calmly explained the situation to him. He was going to concentrate on his owls, whilst equipping his spell arsenal and keeping a low profile by avoiding his yearly death defying adventures.

He had a rising feeling that this year was going to be one of his worst, seeing as it had not started well beginning with the argument that had shaken Number 12 Grimmauld place from top to bottom. The nerve Ron had to claim that his actions were completely justifiable and the fault remained with him for coming behind him wagging his tail like a dog.

Hermione had been tearful and apologetic over the fact that she had chosen Dumbledore over her best friend. She had sincerely apologized, though he hadn't paid her any heed in the aftermath of his fight with Ron. He had poured all the frustrations that he had been bottling up the whole summer into the fight with Ron and had felt instantly better. A year ago, he would've felt bad for fighting with Ron as he had during the Triwizard tournament. But, Hell, he had had enough of the jealous prat behavior from Ron.

Summer had been rather tense with Ron and Harry on non-speaking terms. The arrival of the prefect badge had caused the tension in the air to climb to unimaginable levels. The smug look on Ron's face after he had received the 'P' badge had sent Harry's temper soaring that all the glasses in the room had shattered under the influence of his accidental magic. Sirius had sensed his godson's frustration and had rushed him to the attic where they both spent the rest of the day with Buckbeak with Sirius recounting his pranks and escapades with the other marauders.

His magic, now that was a separate problem. It was as if it was out of control. It was partly to blame for his restlessness. The powerful wards around Sirius's house had prevented the ministry from getting a second go at him as he had barely made it out of the trial for use of underage magic. Throughout the summer he had been staring at his wand with thoughts of doing some magic. He had never felt such an urge in previous years but the past summer had been overwhelming to say the least.

When the Dementors had attacked, his magic had reacted on its own accord, producing his patronus, acting as if it had been waiting to be called. One more fact that he had noticed while he was mourning over his expulsion was the case that he had not felt any amount of drain from his magic while he had cast the Patronus. Usually he would feel his magic being depleted to a certain extent after performing the spell, but he found this new change refreshing though he couldn't reason out the cause for the change. He had cast the same spell a few months back. He had done nothing to explain this sudden increase of his magical core.

The last but not the least of his problems was the old man, Dumbledore. Harry was slowly getting irritated by the fact that the old man was ignoring his presence. He had completely avoided him at the ministry after his hearing. At Grimmauld place, the old man had deliberately avoided facing Harry on more than one occasion.

Why he was doing this, Harry had no idea. The man had yet to ask him the full details of the happenings at the graveyard having not been present at school during the last weeks the term as McGonagall herself had acted as the Headmistress for the school. He suspected that the Headmaster had been out recruiting the Order.

He had given the gist of grabbing Cedric's body and the portkey and the details of the ritual but had collapsed from blood loss before describing the events of the duel, how Voldemort had struck him with the killing curse, how he had woken up with a severe hangover, to find his followers huddled around the unconscious from of their Dark Lord before he dragged his injured body towards Cedric and _accio-_ed the portkey.

Damn, he still had nightmares of the green jet of light from Voldemorts wand flying gracefully towards him, Cedric's body dropping dead, limp without any movement. He involuntarily shuddered. Two killing curses, and yet he still had no explanation as to how he had survived both, though he did have a vague idea on the first one. He had hoped for Dumbledore to provide an insight on the matter, but it seemed that the old man was keen on avoiding him.

Dumbledore be damn, he was going to give up on the old man. He was going to wait for the old man to take his time and set things right. Anyway he had better things to worry about, like the Prophet slandering his name. Harry wondered how many in Hogwarts would be willing to believe the Prophets lies. The students had all believed Dumbledore's explanation at the end of the term, well he would have to wait and watch.

He sighed as he received a few more glares inside the train as he began towards the back of the train searching for a compartment. 'Damn, guess Fudge has most of the students on his side' thought Harry as he wearily made his way past the glares and stares directed his way.

He found an empty compartment and slid into it He quickly pulled out his wand and cast a small notice-me-not charm on his compartment. He was sure that wasn't going to be getting any visitors save Hermione, for he was at the end of the train and no one would bother searching for the-Boy–Who-Lies seeing as he had killed another student for the sake of fame as the Prophet so eloquently put it.

He gave his wand a small smile as he felt his magic pulsating through it. It had happened quite a few times that summer, every time he had picked it up with the intention of using some spell or the other he had experienced a tingling sensation and he had hastily dropped fearing the use of underage magic. He sighed considering the fact that he had nearly been expelled even with all his control, though he idly wondered how the Wizegamot gathered to discuss the expelling of a case of underage magic. Were they all fools or did they not have anything useful to do with their time?

His first spell since 4th year, a Notice-Me-Not, he had used this particular spell in the maze last year to avoid plenty of Hagrid's devilish beasts. He shivered remembering his encounter with the Acromantula. He felt a slight jerk as the train started moving.

Seeing the slowly disappearing platform Harry waited for a few minutes enjoying the scenery before falling asleep, not knowing of the power behind the Privacy charm he had placed, not knowing that a certain bushy haired girl would never be able to find him even with her deliberately searching for him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**** Settling I****n (Edited : June 25, 2015)****  
**

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The Hogwarts express pulled into Hogsmeade station, coming to a screeching halt a few seconds later. The usual white steam from the engine filled the air around the platform as herds of students emerged from the train. Footsteps and chattering filled the air as students from years two to seven made their way towards the carriages whilst the first years were collected by Prof. Grubbly Plank.

Harry Potter was one of the last to fill the last of the carriages owing to the fact that he had occupied the last compartment on the train. He got onto the last carriage expecting it to be empty, only to be surprised on seeing two Slytherin girls both of whom instantly snapped their mouths shut seeing a Gryffindor in their presence.

'Guess I have no choice, well, other than to reach the castle on foot I suppose' he thought, making himself comfortable, an awkward silence settling inside the carriage.

The carriage started towards the castle with Harry determinedly staring outside the carriage pretending to watch the scenery assuming him being able to see anything other than the darkness filling his surroundings while contemplating his course of action for his fifth year.

He had no idea on how Tom was acting, thanks to Molly Weasley, who had insisted on Harry staying out of the Orders business. What she didn't know was the fact that Sirius had made it his personal mission to fill Harry in on every miniscule detail of the Orders meeting. He claimed that Harry had earned the right to learn such information after the Triwizard Tornament. His lack of surprise on seeing Prof. Grubbly Plank on the platform was due to the fact that he knew that Hagrid and Madame Maxime were on a Giant-Recruitment trip.

Sharing the room with his Godfather hadn't helped Mrs. Wealey's cause. The two of them spent most of their time chatting, catching up on old stories, etc. The rest of the Weasley's had spent their time cleaning the house, ridding it off of the filth that had accumulated over the past years. Whilst it was true that he felt a tad bit guilty for not joining them in the work, he suppressed the feeling knowing that every second that he spent with his god-father was precious. The others had some family or the other to be with, Harry only had Sirius and to an extent Remus. It was his right to spend the minimal amount of time with his _family _rather than on chores.

His luck hadn't lasted long enough though for, Ron had pointed out during dinner one day that they were doing all the work and that Harry was wasting his time fooling around. Before an argument could break out, Mrs. Weasley had stepped in scolding Ron, telling him off to mind his own business though Harry could easily sense the small edge in her voice. Her scolding had been halfhearted since he could feel she shared Ron's opinion on the matter but had chosen to be polite.

The next day he had gone down and had helped her clean out the kitchens where the maniac of a house-elf that Sirius owned had stowed dozens of heirlooms and dark artifacts which had once belonged to Sirius's mother. He had been bitten by a more than a few Doxies, but luckily enough Mrs. Weasley had been prepared with a few concoctions' she had purchased from Diagon-Alley that counteracted the Doxi-Venom. He suffered the most at the hands of a few pixies which had taken to throwing stuff on him which included knives, blades, Kreacher, etc. before Sirius had come to his aid, immobilizing them with a wave of his wand.

Cleaning the house had taken a toll on him, true, but he had been more irritated at the fact that it had taken away most of the time he had been planning to spend with his godfather. He shook his head wearily wanting nothing more than to head straight to his Gryffindor dorm room, where his beautiful four poster bed would be waiting for him.

Harry was shaken out of his thoughts as the Carriage buckled a bit due the uneven road to Hogwarts. A small frown adored his features as he took in the silence surrounding him, 'Have my ears gone deaf? Where are those insults?' With a confused look he turned to look at the two Slytherin girls sharing the compartment.

He caught the blonde haired girl staring at him though she abruptly turned away pretending to be interested in her handbag. He raised his eyebrows, noticing for the first time that she had deep blue Cerulean eyes. He remembered meeting her eyes a few times during the past few years. She was wearing the usual school robes, with the Slytherin crest engraved on it, confirming his suspicions as to why he had never talked to her before.

He rarely interacted outside of Gryffindor, not that he didn't want to but rather that he was content to follow the unspoken rule since first year. Interaction between the houses was minimal and strained due to the looks it drew in from both houses. He had always stuck with Ron and Hermione, rarely going out and talking to a Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff though interacting with the latter had never been voluntary on his part, due to the happenings in his second and fourth year.

Harry turned to look at the other girl who simply smirked at him, boldly staring into his eyes. She had Raven black hair with Hazel eyes that sparkled with mischief or was it amusement. She opened her mouth to say something but seemed to decide against it, opting to keep her mouth closed. He didn't recognize either of the girls but he knew that both of them were in is his year. He remembered seeing their faces in the background of the classes he had shared with the Slytherins in the past years. Ah yes, Daphne Greengrass was it, the Ice-Queen and her friend Tracey Davis who were among the top five in their year. Hermione had many a time grumbled about the threat they posed to her First Rank title. No matter, she needn't worry about them anymore, as suffice to say he was the one who was going to knock Hermione out of her first place.

Thinking about Slytherins, Malfoy the amazing bouncing ferret came to mind. He was glad that he hadn't encountered the prat up until now. If only the ferret would leave him alone this year, but no, his ego would have doubled with the return of Voldemort. He would have without a doubt spent the entire summer learning how to kiss Voldemort's feet from Daddy, who had proven to be an expert in such matters time after time, dating from Voldemort to Fudge and then again to Voldemort.

He absently glanced back at the blonde haired girl. He raised his eyebrows catching her cerulean eyes focused on him once again. The carriage stopped at that precise moment diverting his attention away from the two girls, making him bite back a snappy remark. Seeing that the girls weren't going to make a move, he gathered his trunk and jumped out of the carriage making his way towards the entrance hall ignoring a few stares.

He had less taken less than 5 steps before coming face to face with an irate Hermione. She emitted a low growl but didn't say anything otherwise, motioning him towards the feast. He sighed following her like a loyal puppy. He didn't know why, but he felt the sudden desire to turn around, an eerie feeling of having someone's eyes on him. Giving into his desire, his head rotated by ninety degrees with his body finished the remaining ninety while his eyes scanned the area only to land on the same Slytherin girl. Cerulean blue eyes met Emerald Green for the briefest of seconds before the contact was broken by the crowd of students.

"What are you looking at, Harry?" called his friend.

"Ummm … Nothing" he replied, allowing himself to be steered towards the feast.

The welcoming feast went, more or less as Harry had expected. The students barricaded themselves from him, which was expected considering the stories the prophet was printing about him. It had bothered him a bit but he had shrugged it off claiming it off as their loss. He had Hermione by his side, with Neville on his opposite and Ginny by his other side.

Neville for that matter hadn't asked a single question regarding the rise of the Dark lord and Harry had mentally applauded the boy for it. A boy whom he hadn't properly acknowledged save for a handful of times since coming to Hogwarts was willing to accept him, while ...… Harry glanced at Ron who was busy at the moment trying his level best to strike a conversation with Seamus and Dean.

"Harry, where were you on the train? I was looking for you everywhere." Hermione scowled.

"I was in one of the last compartments, towards the end of the train" Harry replied offhandedly, remembering himself casting the Notice-Me-Not charm, 'But the charm should've failed if she was deliberately looking for me' he thought.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, "So you want me to believe that you sat with a gang of Slytherins for the entire train ride, you must have had more than a few pleasant conversations"

"What …No, I had a compartment for myself" he replied before adding "As I cast a Notice- Me-Not Charm on my compartment"

"Figures, if you had cast the Charm on yourself I would've probably found you seeing as it doesn't stop people who are seeking you out. But wait, how did you manage to cover an entire Compartment with such a basic spell"

"Drop it Hermione, It's time for Dumbledore's Welcome speech and am not really in the mood to discuss academics" he said giving her a pleading look.

Deciding to drop it for the moment, Hermione started describing her vacation with her parents during the end of June and the first three weeks of July. She had spent the rest of July and August with the Weasley family at Grimmauld place. Harry politely nodded asking a few silly questions here and there, though most of his attention was focused on a new face sitting at the staff table.

She was dressed in all pink and had a distinct toad like face. She held her head high, gazing around the staff table as though her going-to-be co-workers were beneath her. Harry had a distinct feeling of seeing her before but he couldn't quite place his finger on the time and location. He unconsciously bit his lip, his forehead scrunched up in concentration as he sought out memory after memory searching for her picture.

His eyebrows shot up past his forehead as he remembered the same toad like woman he had spotted sitting near Fudge at his hearing. She had been one of the first to raise her hands in favor of his conviction and had worn a look of triumph, though it had turned to a look of defeat and anger when he had been cleared. She was Fudge's senior undersecretary, and if his memory served correctly Sirius had warned that Fudge might post a spy within Hogwarts to monitor Dumbledore's actions.

The hall fell silent as the ancient Headmaster rose to his feet, "To all the new students 'Welcome' and to all others, 'Welcome back' to another year of magical education. Now as per usual, our caretaker Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you that magic in the corridors is strictly forbidden and …." The customary instructions were given, though Hermione and the others got a shock when the headmaster announced that Hagrid was on temporary leave and that a substitute professor had been arranged. She felt ashamed that she hadn't noticed Hagrid's absence both at the platform and at the staff table though she didn't enquire on his casual look.

Harry watched in amusement as the toad was introduced by Dumbledore as Dolores Jane Umbridge who would be filling in as the Defense against the Dark Arts professor for the year. The student body got a huge surprise when the toad had the audacity to interrupt the headmaster, starting her own introduction speech. The teachers wore identical expressions of fury. While three-fourths of students gave the woman curious and annoyed looks, the Slytherins looked positively gleeful at seeing the toad disrespect the Headmaster.

Harry tuned out most of the speech as he couldn't make head or tail of the riddles she was talking in though he could see that Hermione was paying rapt attention, the frown on her face increasing with each word. He snorted when she ended saying "…. I am sure that we will all be the best of friends" earning a disapproving look from Hermione.

The feast ended with Dumbledore continuing his speech from where he was interrupted, before dismissing them off to their dorms. Hermione leaned in towards Harry's ear and whispered the password to the Gryffindor common room giving him a slight nod. He gave her a small smile, though she would never know how much he had appreciated her presence of mind. This way he would be able to put off the interrogation and the stares, or at the very least postpone them till a later date.

He didn't expect the Gryffindor's to side with him, no, that would be naïve of him, and he was past those silly expectations. Ron's behavior had shown him all that it was better to not have any expectations than face the cold truth later on.

He hadn't shown it, but he had been greatly annoyed by the glares that Seamus had sent his way during the feast. He was sure that his perceptive bushy haired friend had also noticed seeing as she wasn't one to break the usual custom of the first-years being the first to enter the common room.

He slipped away from the crowds into one of the many secret passages of Hogwarts and appeared at the foot of the Gryffindor tower. He raced up the constantly changing staircases to reach the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Grindylows" he muttered the password making the Fat Lady aware of his presence.

"My, my, Harry, What brings you to the tower so early on?" she asked in her chirpy voice.

He chose to ignore her and repeated the password, eyes fixed on the floor below.

She sighed, but relented by swinging forward allowing him into the common room. He did hear her call out that she was on his and Dumbledore's side making him reconsider whether or not, he and Dumbledore were on the same side. He didn't mind the portraits opinion as it wasn't going to play much of factor in reducing his problems, seeing as he couldn't imagine Fudge being convinced to draw the stick out of his arse by a portrait.

He entered his dorm room to find his trunk and belongings, safely delivered by the house elves at his bedside. Whipping out a towel from his trunk, he threw it over his shoulder, readying himself for a nice hot bath. He sighed as he heard footsteps, indicating the arrival of his year-mates. He slipped into the bathroom just as Seamus's head whipped into sight.

By the time Harry emerged from the bathroom, the other boys were halfway through their unpacking. Underwear's, jumpers, posters filled their dorm floor. Without as much as a word to anyone he hung his towel over his four poster bed. Ignoring the blatant stares he was receiving from his year mates he started unpacking his trunk.

Sirius had told him that both his mom and dad had gotten 7 O.W.L.S each. His mother had gotten O's in Potions, Charms, Defense and Ancient Runes while his father had nailed O's in Charms, Transfiguration and Defence. Sirius himself had gotten 7 O.W.L.S with three O's.

Compared to his parents and his Godfather, Harry deemed his grades to be decent or acceptable, though not good enough. He had by some sort of luck or other held onto the top grades for Defense in the past four years but he had barely scarped an E.E in Charms and Transfiguration. He considered himself borderline adequate in potions and was confident that he would have managed at least an E.E were it not for Snape's infuriating taunts and bullying.

Making up his mind to put a bit more effort into his academics for the first time in over four years was one of the few positive attributes he had gotten out of his fight with Ron. After all, he would need every edge he could get in order to come out alive after another encounter with Voldemort which he reckoned was earlier than most would expect. Sirius had claimed that his mother would have bitten his head off for his current grades. Though Sirius had meant it as a joke, it had served to only increase his sudden thirst to prove himself.

He had often wondered how his life would've been without Voldemort, with his parents alive. Would it have been his father who would've taught him to ride a broom? Would it have been his mother and not Mrs. Weasley who would hug him at Kings Cross? Would they be proud of him? What would they say to their son being the youngest seeker in a century? He could only speculate, for he would never have the right answers.

"My mum didn't want me to return to Hogwarts" Seamus declared loudly "She's afraid that it isn't safe anymore, with a 'Killer' in my dorm"

Harry knew without turning back that all four pairs of eyes were on him. He inwardly smirked at Seamus's pathetic attempt to get him riled up. He knew that though Ron didn't approve of Seamus's accusation, the red haired boy wouldn't be stepping in on Harry's behalf. Neville would remain neutral with Dean leaning a bit towards Seamus. Furthermore he had no intention of going to bed in a sour mood, for he was sure that if he started an argument with Seamus boy it wouldn't end without him hexing the Irish boy into oblivion.

Seamus however had other ideas, "Why are you back here Potter?" he yelled startling the other three.

Harry began whistling a small tune whilst rearranging his towels, robes and books in their respective places. He took out one of the photos of his parents whilst they were in Hogwarts, Lily snuggled up in James arms as they viewed the sunset at the Lake shore, letting out a wistful sigh before placing it on his bedside table. He knew that the Irish's boys face was getting redder and redder with each second, but chose to be indifferent. He showed no indication of acknowledging neither the other boys words nor his presence which only served to further infuriate the boy.

The best way to survive this year was by adopting an indifferent attitude. Sirius had briefed him on the basics of Occlumency, seeing as belonging to the Ancient and most Noble House of Black did have a few perks. His shields were fragile at best without any holes and would crack even with the slightest of probing from a sufficiently accomplished Leglimens, but that was completely beyond the point.

The reason for learning basic Occlumecy was for him to get a better control over his emotions as encountering a Leglimens wasn't that common. Should he encounter a Leglimens he would feel enough intrusion to break eye contact which would be more than enough to protect his mind suffice to say that said person wasn't a Master Leglimens. Nonetheless, control over his emotions did not prevent the springing up of a new emotion, hurt.

He calmly jumped onto his bed drawing the curtains around with a flick of his wand before whispering a one side visibility charm on the curtains. Hermione had come up with it for the sake of his easier navigation through the maze. Though she had suspected that the tall grass forming the maze would have been charmed against such simple spells it had still been worth a try. Hell, he certainly wasn't regretting learning the charm, for now he had an equivalent of Television, seeing the reactions of his dorm-mates.

* * *

Seamus was beyond livid. How dare that filthy liar ignore him like he wasn't worth his time? Damn, Harry Bloody Potter was the reason he had to literally beg his mother to return to Hogwarts. How the hell did Dumbledore believe his spewed up old story of You-know-Who coming back from the dead? Hadn't Moody made it clear last year that no spell could reawaken the dead? Which also implied that Potter had murdered Diggory for the sake of winning the tournament. He didn't think for a second last year that Potter would resort to killing for the sake of fame. Potter would have been in Azkaban right now, weren't it for Dumbledore's influence.

He scowled at Potters bed, deciding against setting the curtains on fire. He suddenly smirked remembering how three-fourth of the hall had glared at Potter's back at the Start of the Term feast. Hell the Hufflepuff's had looked murderous, more so than the Slytherins. The Ravenclaws weren't far behind, though their hatred was mostly instigated by Chang and her gang.

Potter had half of Ravenclaw and half of Gryffindor, which was roughly one-fourth of the school populous as neutrals while the rest of school as enemies. It was definitely going to be an interesting year, espeically with the attack that Chang and her friends were planning the very next day. If they were bold enough to plan something like that on the very first day of school, he shuddered to think of what they might be planning for the rest of the year.

* * *

Harry woke up at 6:30 A.M feeling refreshed and slightly energetic. He removed the silencing ward around his bed, though he doubted that he needed them at this point. Since the graveyard incident he hadn't had any of those bizarre dreams and had been getting plenty of sleep unlike last year, during which he had been tormented with visions of Wormtail, Voldemort and sometimes Crouch Jr.

'First day of class, best to get ready' he thought throwing a towel over his shoulders and marching towards the bathroom ignoring the Weasley boy's snoring which he found was a bit more infuriating than before, probably due to the row. By the time he finished his affairs in the bathroom it was 7:00. Throwing on his Hogwarts robes he collected his book bag, stuffing his wand into his robes. He admired his looks in the mirror for a few seconds before making his way out of the dormitory.

He arrived at the great hall to find a familiar bushy-haired girl with her nose in the books. Chuckling lowly he occupied the seat opposite to her observing the rest of the great hall.

"Someone's early today" Hermione commented, eyes not straying from her book.

"Well, I had a good night's sleep without any of those stupid visions and besides, I am used to getting up early at the Dursleys to cook breakfast" he replied spreading jam onto his toast.

Hermione frowned a bit, "How come you never told me that those visions stopped?"

"Well, it's not like I miss them much but …" Harry paused, "Come to think of it, I haven't had any ever since the graveyard" he ended with a frown, faking surprise.

Hermione's attention was now focused solely on him, her book aside. "Harry, you ought to report this to Dumbledore"

Harry's expression closed off in the blink of an eye, as he shot Hermione a look of distaste which didn't go unnoticed by the bushy haired girl.

"What?" she asked

"Nothing" he murmured, taking a bite into his toast.

"Parvati and Lavender asked about you last night?" Hermione continued.

"What? Oh right, they must have inquired whether or not I killed Cedric?" he drawled sarcastically.

"Actually yes, and they seemed to believe you. Parvati defended you, stating that you didn't seem like the kind of guy to commit murder"

Harry snorted, 'That's new' he thought.

"Harry, whether you believe it or not, some people really do hold you in high esteem. They have seen you for four years and they know that you aren't an attention seeking whore as most of the school or prophet so crudely put it. You really need to extend your relations beyond Gryffindor, me and Ron. I know that this year is …."

Hermione stopped seeing the look of anger on Harry's face. True, she hadn't really seen Harry getting worked up, unlike Ron who seemed to blow up at every corner, but the sight before her was a tad bit scary. She could feel his magic pulsating around them. Weird, she had never felt like this.

"You think that just because two of your dorm-mates say otherwise means that you can apply the same to the rest of the school. Hermione, why are you trying to pacify things between me and the rest of the … those idiots? Why do you want to pretend as though nothing is wrong between me and the rest of the school? I was accused of being a murderer by Seamus last night" Hermione gasped, as Harry's tone softened a bit "and he was a fellow Gryffindor. I am sick of being called those names. The fools can call me whatever they want, but the fact remains, that Voldemort is back and they refuse to acknowledge it. If they don't do something about it, people as well as the ministry is going to be ill-prepared for the war giving Tom a huge advantage"

Harry sighed, using his hands to cover his face. He shouldn't have taken it out on Hermione, Damn. He had been nonchalant to Seamus's words last night, but that didn't mean that he hadn't gotten worked up. More than anger, he was feeling hurt. The same boy who had cheered him on for supposedly putting his name in the Goblet of Fire, rooting for him throughout the tournament had to come to the point of accusing him of murder.

It just showed how naïve people were, or how naïve he had been. Hadn't the Dueling club incident during his second year proven how narrow minded people were? Ignorant fools, he could almost imagine the lot of them coming back, kissing his feet once Voldemort moved into the open making his return public knowledge.

"Look Hermione, I am sorry, alright?" he said, seeing the startled look on the girls face, "It's just this stupid behavior that's getting to me" eyeing a Hufflepuff with a dark look, whose eyes, he would have sworn was on him a few seconds back.

"It's alright Harry, I just want you to open up a bit more. You spent the whole of summer with Sir … Padfoot and sort of like avoided us. Even now I feel like you're kind of distant" she replied choosing her words carefully, "I understand that you're mad that we chose not to write to you during summer, but don't you think that you have punished us … me long enough" Harry's eyes softened a bit and he gave a huge sigh.

"No, it's not you I am mad with and I forgave you a long time ago Hermione, and as for … Hermione, there is something that i haven't told anyone, not even Dumbledore" he said with as a sacred look entered his eyes, though it lasted only for a few seconds before it was replaced with a look of uncertainty.

He look at her, straight in the eyes as though he were judging her very stared back into his green eyes with her brown ones undeterred, knowing that she would need to make a choice between the Headmaster and her friend, if not now, then very soon. It wasn't the Headmaster who saved her from the troll, nor was he the one to befriend Hogwarts resident bookworm. She had made the mistake once but not again, now that she knew how much she needed him.

"I … You know, I think I need to … go ... go get my Charms essay. I think I left it in my dorm" Harry stuttered, jamming the remaining toast into his mouth and gulping down his pumpkin juice before bidding a hasty goodbye. She watched with a sad smile on her face as he rushed out of the hall, knowing that there wasn't a Charms essay in first place.

Whatever that had been at the tip of his tongue, was something deadly serious. She had only once seen that look on Harry's eyes, the look of Death and that had been right after the third task of the Triwizard Tournament. He had been bursting to tell her, yet had held back after replaying her actions. She knew that Harry felt sort of … betrayed no matter how vague that feeling was, it was something she was sure that Harry must never again feel.

She frowned seeing Ron Weasley tagging along like a loyal dog, behind Dean and Seamus. The read head and her, looking back properly over the last few years, they were all that Harry had and that too had now been reduced to one. Sirius didn't count much, as he couldn't leave Grimmauld place.

'How thick can that boy be?' she thought seeing Ron laughing at Seamus's joke. 'Does four years of friendship account to nothing? How can Ron associate with that … that fiend … who had called their best mate a murderer?'

She shook her head in frustration; the school drama was dampening her mood. Ron Weasley was at the bottom of her problems. His attitude was going to be the death of him and besides, she had a strong feeling that his silly fight with Harry may have been due to his sudden unpopularity among the masses. She needed to regain Harry's trust, 'O.W.L.S, Dumbledore and Weasley be damn' she thought shutting her book with a small snap.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Resolve (Edited : June 28th, 2015)  
**

* * *

Harry rushed out of the great hall with no particular destination in mind. He kept walking until he reached the Castle's doors. Knowing that he hadn't gotten his schedule and had to return to the great hall sooner or later he settled with heading out towards the Black Lake. The wind picked up, making his hair messier than usual, as his locks fluttered over his forehead.

He settled down on the bank, gazing serenely at the beauty of Nature in front of him. He caught a glimpse of the Giant Squids tentacles grazing the water surface. His thoughts drifted along the direction of the Dark Lord, the trouble and threat he posed and the side effects he had been subjected to, owing to said Bastard not moving into the open. Though it was better this way, for if the Dark Lord moved into the open the disappearances and Chaos that prevailed during the first war would repeat. But it posed the serious threat of the Ministry being unprepared and more vulnerable than last time which implied that once Voldemort moved into the open, it would be almost effortless for him to overthrow the ministry.

Damn, why couldn't his life be normal, could it get any more Fucked up than this. Gritting his teeth in frustration he whipped out his wand and sent a _Reducto_ towards the lake creating a small tidal wave. His eyes bulged to the size of a tennis ball as Water soaked his entire body including his freshly ironed robes. It took him a few seconds to get over the fact that his simple Reductor Curse had managed to create a small tidal wave. Wiping the water on his glasses with the back of his hands, he cast a quick drying Charm on his hair and clothes before plopping down once more at the edge of the bank deep in thought. He just couldn't fathom how his spell casting had out of the blue gained this much Power.

His _Reducto's_ were barely able to disintegrate a medium-sized Rock at the end of last year, and he hadn't cast a spell since, well save for the _Patronus_ which nearly had him expelled, then how could his spell work have increased so dramatically over a period of two months with no effort? He sighed, feeling distressed about not having answers to too many of his questions. He would've gone to the Headmaster had they been on speaking terms, but ….

"Harry" He whipped his head around to find Hermione staring at him with concerned eyes. She was looking at him with that tender look in her eyes, as though he were a fragile thing and would break should she stare hard enough. It only served to add to his already mounting frustration.

"Oh .. Hey Hermione" he replied picking himself up from the ground without meeting her eyes, keeping his tone as controlled as possible.

"Your schedule" she said handing over a Parchment. A quick glance blesses him with the absence of Potions, for the day. A good start, Double Transfiguration followed by an hour of History of Magic before lunch and Double Charms and Divination in the afternoon. He shared Potions, Charms and Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, Divination and History of Magic with the Ravenclaws which left DADA, Transfiguration and Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins.

'Not bad' he thought, a small smile gracing his lips at the thought of NOT having Potions with the Slytherins for the first time in four years. So he had to simply deal with Snape, only Snape, which wouldn't be much of a problem if he carried out his plan of inserting a bit more effort into memorizing.

He heard Hermione let out a relieved sigh before motioning him towards the castle. No words were exchanged until they reached the Transfiguration classroom and Harry was inwardly relieved that Hermione chosen to not comfort him. She had somehow magically contracted the idea that he was drowning in depression, soon after his fallout with Ron, and had been on his case, night and day to get him to talk.

The classroom was devoid of any of the loudmouth Slytherins and of his fellow Gryffindor's. Taking a seat towards the back of the classroom he motioned Hermione towards his adjacent seat, for he couldn't think of any bloke who would be willing to sit next to him. He pulled out his fifteen inch essay on the increment of Transfigured objects and its effectiveness from his backpack and began going through it, looking for any errors. He caught Hermione's raised eyebrow out of the corner of his eye, though she chose to not comment. His bushy haired friend feigned obliviousness and pulled out her own essay, mirroring his actions though he could tell that she was surprised by his actions.

A few minutes later the sound of quiet footsteps and low chuckles caught Harry's attention. His eyes strayed away from the parchment in his hands to find Greengrass and Davis enter the classroom. Seeing no threat his gaze dropped back to essay, though he could sense the girl's eyes roam over his features and then Hermione's, though his bushy haired friend was too preoccupied to notice.

Their conversation dropped several notes as they moved towards the front of the classroom. Whipping out his wand he cast a few privacy charms around himself and Hermione, gaining the attention of his female friend. She shot him a questioning look but he simply jerked his head towards the Slytherins. Her answer was a frown which softened a bit in what appeared to be recognition.

"Are those two your competition Hermione?" His bushy haired friend scowled

"You could say that. Greengrass always seems to be able to do better than me in both Potions and Arithmacy. Her friend Davies is better than both of us at Runes, and I outclass them in the rest of the subjects thanks to the theory part which they are not so good at. But otherwise, yes, they are my competitors" Hermione said with a scowl. Harry shot her an amused look. His friend was pretty intense when it came to being at the top of the class.

"Do you know them personally?" he said exasperated, "Are they like Malfoy?"

"Well, to be honest, I don't have a clue" she replied, "But, they are better than most Slytherins and I have rarely seen them integrate with Malfoy, not to mention that they haven't insulted me even once in the last four years"

Harry failed to hide his surprise, 'A Slytherin who hadn't insulted his Muggle-Born friend even once, now that was something new', "I didn't know that such Snakes existed" he exclaimed.

Hermione nodded, though she did shoot him a disapproving look at the mention of the word 'Snake'. "And I have a hunch that they don't like Malfoy that much" she said uncertainly.

Harry scoffed, 'Who does like Malfoy?' he thought.

"How come?" he asked.

"Well, I was in the library the other day and they were like teasing him a lot. No wait, I know that Teasing isn't the same as Detesting, but you should've have heard the disgust that was laced in their tone. It was almost like hearing one of Ron's rants of Malfoy. I'm guessing that Draco is not that well liked in his house"

Hermione's lips curled a bit, "Why the sudden interest Harry? You wouldn't happen to fancy one of them do you? I hear that Potter men have a thing for red-heads" she asked testily gesturing towards Davis who had her back turned to them, holding a hushed conversation with her friend like them.

Harry shot her an incredulous look, "No. I kind of like, shared a carriage with those two yesterday, and you know, I was surprised by the lack of insults. Also, I think it's time you stopped listening to Sirius" he said the last part with a frown. Sirius had been pushing him to ask Ginny out.

"Well, that maybe due to the fact that Tracey Davis is a Half-Blood. Her only friend is Greengrass and they kind of stick to each other. I would call them outcasts, but, there are a lot like those two in Slytherin" she replied

"Oh, talk about Intra-House unity" he snorted.

"Actually Harry, it's not just them. Most of Slytherin House is sort of, scattered. I know of many 6th and 7th years such as McCourt, Zabini, Higgs, etc. Prefer to stay out of Malfoy's way. They tolerate him only for the sake of his father"

"Wait, isn't Blaise in our year" he asked

"Yeah, but I was referring to his sister Barbara Zabini"

He threw her a puzzled look, "And just how do you know all this?"

Hermione smiled sweetly, "Oh, I tend to keep my eyes and ears open, though Lavender and Parvati make it their daily business to keep me up to date on the school gossip before bed"

"And what was that bit about the other Slytherins tolerating Malfoy because of his father?"

"Harry, whether you recognize it or not, Lucius Malfoy, is an intimidating Political figure. From what I have heard, the Malfoy family is well off, and that's saying something as what I have heard does not include any illegal activities. Lucius Malfoy can make a person's life very difficult if he wished to. Furthermore, the return of V-Voldemort would have increased the panic and fear of those if any, who have stood up against him in the past-"

"What? How? Surely, no one believes that Voldemort is back, especially after Fudge's smear campaign against me" Harry interrupted.

"Oh Honestly Harry, Don't be so naïve. You didn't think that V-Voldemort would sit still right. He would have sent subtle messages through the shadows via Malfoy, inviting the other Pureblood families to join him or that's what I think he did during the last war"

Harry was furious, "Do you mean to tell me that all the Pureblood families know of Voldemorts return" he got out through gritted teeth.

"Well I suppose most in Slytherin and a few from the other houses would have gotten some sort of recruit invitation" she replied thoughtfully.

Forcefully clearing his mind of the thoughts on Voldemorts return, Harry returned to the other bit of information he had gotten from Hermione.

This particular information piqued his interest making him wonder and contemplate the life of such Slytherins. Being subjected to the wrath of your own housemates as well as the rest of the school, an issue he shared with those outcasts though it was more pronounced in his case. Up until now he had thought of all Slytherins to be the same, how naïve of him. Wasn't Peter Pettigrew a living proof that House at Hogwarts didn't matter one bit in the outside world.

How would his life have been, had he not met Ron and Malfoy on that fateful day. He was damn sure that he would be wearing robes of Green had it been the case. Would the schools views on Slytherins in general have changed due him being sorted into said house? Fat Chance, for they would have proclaimed him as the next Dark Lord let alone the problems he would be facing within that house of the snakes.

Feeling tempted to release a long suffering sigh; he switched his thoughts back to the Transfiguration essay which was easier said than done. The breakup with Ron prevailed over his mind as he couldn't figure out for the Love of Merlin as to why it bothered him so much. The bridge between them had been burnt the second his name arose from the thrice Damned Goblet of Fire. Their interactions after the first task had been that of acquaintances not mates.

He knew deep down that the only reason for Ron to approach after the First Task had been acceptance of the fact that no matter how hard he tried he would always been in the shadows of the Boy-Who-Lived. It was downright obvious that Ron had approached the Boy who had conquered a Dragon and not Harry Potter. When it became clear that staying with Harry Potter could only tarnish your reputation as becoming delusional he had cleared off like a ….

He ruthlessly crushed all thoughts about his former friend, if you could call him that. Being soaked up in his depression Harry failed to notice that the class had filled up for the officially first class of their fifth year.

Minerva McGonagall in all her glory stepped into the classroom, her non-nonsense persona fully active making all murmuring in the classroom cease as the young wizards paid rapt attention to her every movement.

What followed was long, dull and boring lecture that she was known to give all the O.W.L students at the beginning of every New Year, the purpose of which was to induce the importance of not taking these exams lightly, for its scores were indeed going to decide the field which every individual was going to uptake. Harry himself had no particular profession in mind since he had never given any thought on this particular topic since seeing his trust vault four years ago.

"I will not tolerate any more fooling around in this class. Should you want to take Transfiguration next year, I suggest that you manage to scrap at the least an 'Exceeds Expectations' in your O.W.L.S. Any student having a grade below that will not be permitted in my class next year" The strict professor looked glanced around the class making a few students squirm in their seats as her gaze swept past them.

"Now, Up until last year we spent the first two months reviewing the lesson of the previous year. However the syllabus takes sharp turn from fifth year on, making it impossible to make such revisions available. The shear amount of portions to be covered is only a little bit less than the syllabi of your previous two years combined. The first topic that we will be tackling is Conjuration, the basics and the advanced part of Conjuring simple items, such as Napkins, Socks, etc. Conjuration of more advanced objects and the modifications that may be inputted into such Conjurations will be seen further into the year" Here McGonagall's eyes took a glint that promised a tough year ahead.

"Unfortunately we are out of time, seeing as there is only ten more minutes. For today's Assignement, I want all of you to read up the first three Chapters on Conjuration and a 6 foot essay on the basic magic's and spell theory involved in Conjuration which should help you to get in sync with my class, without which, I dare say you will fail miserably. Now, Class Dismissed!" she barked out the last two words as the student body warily rose from their seats.

During Lunch, Harry chose to sit among his Quidditch teammates seeing as they treated him warmly, a sweet relief from the reproachful and unwelcome looks and gestures at some areas of the Gryffindor table. Angelina Johnson, who had been made Quidditch captain as expected, informed him that she would be holding the try-outs for all positions and that he would have to earn his spot once more though she complimented him saying that she had faith in his abilities.

The try-outs got the wheels turning in Harry's head as he reconsidered his place as a Seeker. Seeker's needed to be small, agile and lighter than a feather. He was 15 and had developed a decent amount of Muscle under his baggy clothes. Though the Dursleys had underfed him his Bone weight and newly attained height had made him adequately heavy.

Maybe he could have a shot at being a Chaser, as he particularly didn't care if he didn't make it to the team, as he could easily swap Quiddditch practise time for some serious training in preparation for Voldemort, seeing as a he had gut instinct that said Bastard would be after him. The Things that he had deemed insignificant during his past years at Hogwarts, suddenly seemed to have some or the other importance. The prime example was breakfast, which he had started to stuff himself with in an effort to bulk up his thin body, leaving out the fact that he was starting to feel hungry and seemed to eat a lot more than usual.

After Lunch, Harry and Hermione headed to Charms, hypothetically sticking to each other. Hermione refused to acknowledge Ron and said boy chose to do the same, though it didn't stop him from glaring daggers at Harry.

He greeted the jovial Charms professor as he entered the classroom, once again occupying the last seat. He couldn't quite place it, but he was feeling kind of wary or paranoid was more like it. Having his back turned to people suddenly didn't seem to sit with him all too well, especially after the blatant hostility of his peers. Damn, he should be worrying about Voldemort sticking his wand behind his back, not his bigoted, brain dead classmates.

The Charms professor began his own speech about the O.W.L.S making Harry's eyes droop in drowsiness.

Classes for the first day at Hogwarts ended at 4:30, as Harry wearily returned to the privacy of his dorm. He knew better than to use the common room, lest he avoid creating a scene with one of his supposed fellow Gryffindor's. Hermione had been his only companion throughout the day, though her constant rants and berating's was slowly getting in on his nerves.

Ignoring the pointed stares and whispering was one thing, but glares and looks of loathing were becoming increasingly annoying for him to ignore. He never expected the year to be pleasant, no, which would be naïve of him, but this, was a bit extreme. Were all Wizarding folk, walking around with little to no Brain Cells, because it certainly seemed that way.

How could they accuse him of murder? Shouldn't their common sense make them realize that, if he really were a murderer, then Fudge would have seen to it that he was rotting in Azkaban, let alone attend school like a free man. Then again, every action of his peers, made it clear that, Human logic was foreign to the Wizarding World.

He plopped down on his bed, drawing the curtains around him, relishing in the warmth of his bed. It felt good to be devoid of the scathing looks of his peers.

A few seconds later, Harry suddenly sat up straight. No. He couldn't relax. Not with Lord Moldy Shorts out there. His vows and promises of the night before flashed through his mind, making him pull out the Essays and Assignments that he was required to complete. One glance through them proved that, completing them would take time, precious time, which he was short of.

His mind began to race as he thought out various possibilities to buy some time. Divination and HoM, he didn't give a damn about, seeing as they weren't going to help him rid the world of a Megalo-Maniac who seemed hell-bent in making his life a living hell. He threw back the material for HoM and Divination back into his bag as he pulled out the notes for the classes of Charms and Transfiguration that he had attended.

The next hour was a blur as Harry reviewed and read every single detail he had taken notes on. As he finished the last of his Charm notes a warm feeling arose from his heart, the satisfaction of mastering something. He couldn't pinpoint what that 'something' was, but suffice to say, he felt elated and slightly lightheaded.

'Now for the Essays' he thought readying his quill and parchment. Harry stared at the blank parchment in front of him for a few seconds before mentally slapping himself. How could he expect to write an essay without the tiniest amount of research? And the one place he had access to, where he could find the required information was the Library. Placing the Parchment and quills back on his bed, he dashed out of his bed flinging the curtains out of his way.

Just before the entrance to the fifth year boy's dorm, he froze. A calculating look passes over the fifteen year old before he calmly walked towards his trunk and pulled out both, his Invisibility Cloak as well as the Marauders Map.

Seeing the hazard display of his notes and writing materials scattered on his bed, he pulled out his wand to pull the curtains together around his bed. For the sake of performing some magic, he whipped out a few privacy Charms around his bed. Not too complex but enough to hold out his dorm-mates, that is against minor hexes and curses.

He not-so-Solemnly Swore that he was up to no good, making the Marauders map burst with information on the locations of all the buzzing lives of Hogwarts Castle. With a small smile he threw his father's cloak over himself and felt the thrill of becoming Invisible.

Ten minutes later, the Library did not see an invisible Harry Potter, as said boy started walking along the Transfiguration section, looking for anything and everything to do with Conjuration. He picked three different type of books, which he narrowed down were the most accurate and apt books for him, of not for others.

The three books didn't narrow down the art of Cojuration to small artifacts and minor spells in general as needed for McGonagall's essay, but provided the facts and theories combined with the spells for conjuring each and almost everything. Two of the books he had picked, were on the explanations about the magical properties and theories of Conjuration, while the last one contained the real spells required for Conjuration.

He browsed the Charm section for reference to the prescribed Animation Charms essay and found a large book named, "Animate the World" by Charles McMasque which seemed to cover both the finer aspects of Casting as well as Spell work.

Balancing the Four large books in one hand, he looked around briefly before slipping off his Invisibility Cloak and stuffing it into his pocket. He silently made his way towards Madam Prince who seemed surprised that he was carrying three big books, that too at the start of the term. She masked her surprise quickly by schooling her features, as she signed the books to be taken out of the library with a small huff.

He was barely out of the library, when he threw his father's cloak over to become invisible to the eyes of the naïve students of Hogwarts. A good thing too, as he breathed a sigh of relief seeing as a moment later his bushy haired friend appeared around the corner, a small bundle of books clutched to her chest.

'Really Hermione' he thought as he stood by and watched her rush into the library as though it was one of her scheduled classes.

Shaking his head at his Bushy haired friend, Harry started walking in the direction of the Gryffindor tower, only to realize a few steps later, the tedious work of carrying four heavy books. Slapping himself mentally for forgetting that he was a Wizard he shrunk the books and slipped them into his pocket, whilst ensuring his invisibility.

'Now, for some serious studying' he thought as he took a few shortcuts to reach the Gryffindor tower. He glanced at his watch, noting with satisfaction that it was just 5:53 in the evening. He waited outside the Portrait of the Fat Lady not daring to enter, knowing that the common room would be full this time round and the portrait swinging open without anyone was bound to raise suspicion.

His patience was rewarded as a few minutes later, a 3rd year Gryffindor entered the Portrait giving him ample time to slip into the common room unnoticed.

As expected it was full to the brim, with chattering's and laughter. A few girl giggles erupted from a group of third year girls making Harry cover his ears in fake annoyance.

He waded towards the dorm rooms, fully intent on finishing both of his essays when a nearby conversation snatched his attention far away from studies.

" …. Potter … ya … Yes Chang …"

" … tomorrow … Anthony too …"

" … will … fun …."

'What about me and Cho?' Harry thought moving towards the source of sounds to find Ron, Dean, and Seamus huddled together playing a game Exploding Snap.

" … the Hufflepuff's are quite mad. I heard that even Professor Sprout was unhappy with Dumbledore about bringing him back" Seamus was saying.

"Really, I heard that the group of Hufflepuff's in our year are planning on an Ambush Prank of sorts. That's two out of four houses already" said Dean with a laugh.

"It's three on four factually, seeing as how Potter and the Snakes pick a fight each and every day. I mean really, one would think that Potter fancies Malfoy seeing as they can't seem to pass one day without at least one confrontation. And if that is how they flirt …" Ron was cut off by the snickering's from the other two boys.

Seamus suddenly masked his face, into one of an interrogator. "Well, what about you Ron, You, Potter and Granger were practically joined at the hips for four years straight and then suddenly you come to us claiming that Potter's gone barmy"

Ron looked embarrassed for a second before saying, "Ya know guys, that split between us was long time overdue. I knew he was not meant to be my mate the moment he entered his name in that tournament. It was the past three years of friendship that made me build a bridge between us after the first task, flimsy it may be though it got burnt to crisp after our last argument"

Seamus and Dean seemed to accept the explanation, their facial expressions now devoid of suspicion "Who do you reckon is up with Potter in Gryffindor?" Seamus asked throwing questioning glances at all the people in the common room.

"Well the Quidditch team seems friendly enough, though I haven't got a clue to anyone else" Ron said with a shrug.

"What's it matter anyways? That's enough Potty for one day. Now did you check out Romilda's new …" Dean cut in making the other two boys adopt Wolfish expressions.

Harry numbly registered his legs carrying him towards his dorm. He ripped apart the curtains and plopped down on his bed, a sense of Betrayal filling his body.

He wasn't surprised, no, he definitely wasn't. He knew that it was only a matter of time before Weasley made his move of supposedly proving himself. Worse still, was the fact that Ron knew the truth, Hell his parents were in Dumbledore's order doing their best to retard his rise to power.

He knew that Ron would be doing plenty of cheap things to earn the favor of his dorm and House mates, but it still surprised him that it came too soon. Now that he thought about it, it wasn't that unpredictable seeing as Ron regularly hung around with him and Hermione. Just like himself and Hermione, Ron did not have many friends, not even in Gryffindor. The three of them had struck together, never giving a second thought on what one would do without the other two.

He had held Hermione and Ron together, steadfast and past their bickering and disagreements. Ron and Hermione were the best examples of two Polar opposites and the two would never have gotten along without him, a fact that he would have never given a thought about, a few weeks ago.

'I guess it took losing one of them to acknowledge my importance' he thought sardonically. Contrary to what people might say, he had never considered himself to be extraordinary, just above average, that's all, in both studies as well as among other things.

During his introduction to the Wizarding world, he had felt ashamed and embarrassed of his status as the Boy-Who-Lived. He was by no means extraordinary, just Harry, that's who he was.

The people built their own opinions on him based, constructing a persona of how they wanted him to be, rather than allow him to be what he wished to be. He outright hated people like Skeeter who made it a point to dig into other people's lives, writing fabled gossip and blatant lies. What pissed him off more than such stories were the people who put their blind faith and belief in such articles, holding the Prophet sacred as though it were the Bible?

Logic was seemingly non-existent among the Wizarding Populace much to his chagrin. Away with the idiocy of the Wizarding community his thoughts fell back to Ron... No... Weasley. Double crossing, filthy glory-seeking scumbag, were the exact words Harry now felt were best to describe his 'Friend' of four years.

That Bastard knew that he didn't enter his name in the thrice damned Goblet, yet he conveniently used the incident to buy his way into Seamus and Dean's circle. No one practically knew of Crouch, except for a few of the staff, Dumbledore and the then Golden Trio, and of course the bumbling fool, Fudge.

The worst feeling that came along with the Red-heads Betrayal was unfortunately not anger, but Sadness and hurt. He pitied himself for not being able to feel anger, a necessary feeling among Humans, yet he felt sad and though he loath to admit it, Loneliness. The same feeling he remembered feeling while being locked up in his dark cupboard without a ray of light while he munched away on a rotten, dried piece of bread that stray dogs would pass up without so much as a sniff.

Sitting up with a grim look, he folded his legs and closed his eyes, slowly relaxing his body until his labored breathing became even. He let out a long suffering sigh before attempting to clear his damn mind of all thoughts and emotions.

He landed once more on a landscape that he had come to visit more than a few times during the last month. As instructed by the book given by Sirius, he began sorting through his memories, piling them into his own imaginative library which he had gone through Hell to create.

Only after sorting through his lifetime of memories which summed up to 15 years, up until now would he be able to form defenses and mental barriers, which comprised of the intermediate stage of Occlumency.

Sorting out your memories enabled him to check on his thoughts and ideas with relative ease and quickness. The main perk of doing so would be being able to detect the attack by a Legilimens, though he wouldn't be able to even push out the said invader let alone hold the attack out of his mind.

But, no matter, he was still making progress and he certainly could not expect to become a Master Occlumens overnight, even for the Boy-Who-Lived. He would be finished sorting through his memories in around three days after which he could begin the fun and more exciting work of constructing Barriers.

Opening his eyes, he glanced at his watch to find out that it was 6:45 in the evening. Cursing himself for the lack of Concentration, he pulled out the books he had borrowed from the Library and un-shrunk them diving into the book on Animation Charms, all other thoughts and events temporarily forgotten.

* * *

As the Boy-Who-Lived was living up to his steely resolve, the rest of the school was marred with confusion on said boys behavior. They had witnessed and observed throughout the day, how the once carefree and easy going boy had become hardened and more subdues with an odd gleam filling in his eyes. They supposed that he was finally repenting for his crimes, though they were not satisfied.

The Hufflepuff's wanted his blood for murdering their one student who had brought glory and fame to their supposed weak and peasant house. The Ravenclaws who had been rallied under Chang were out for his misery, for ruining Chang's life. The jealous witch had managed to bag one of the most desirable Wizards in Hogwarts, only to have him murdered by a fellow Champion, and said Champion was let off scot-free, while he should be rotting in Azkaban. She had gathered together some of her fan's, such as Anthony Golstein for support in justifying and punishing Potter's deeds.

The remaining Ravenclaws watched on in amusement knowing that the hatred that had filled the Hufflepuff's and their fellow mates was unreasonable. Their logic contradicted the rumor, as they had come to acknowledge it, of Potter murdering Diggory. They knew that even Dumbledore wouldn't be able to keep Potter out of prison should he have really committed murder, not with Amelia Bones as the head of the DMLE. They resolved that they would not interfere, unless and until of course their housemates came seeking for their involvement, in which case they would support them.

While the Slytherins under Malfoy hated Potter under principle, they knew that the Dark Lord was back, through their parent Death Eaters of course. The rest of Slytherin house, remained in the Shadows as usual, unmindful of Harry Potter and his cursed life.

The Gryffindor's were confused, to say the least. They didn't know what to expect of their famous Seeker and housemate. Most were angry at said Boy for sprouting lies about the return of You-Know-Who, but, really, who cares, as long as the boy caught the snitch in the next game.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter-4 ****To Be Stronger (Edited : 2nd July 2015)**

* * *

A small beep, emitted from the watch tied around the left wrist of the Boy-Who-Lived, made him check out the time, 5:00 A.M in the morning. Harry sighed, though a satisfactory smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He had woken up at four in the morning, feeling refreshed and very well rested. He couldn't explain, how or what provoked him to jerk awake at that ungodly hour.

Knowing that going back to sleep was impossible, not with the amount of energy and restlessness that seemed to seep through him, he had changed tactics by pulling out his Charms Book from the previous night flipping over to the fourth Chapter, continuing from where he had left off.

It was now five in the morning and he had finished thoroughly reading the theory and spell work behind animation Charms. Should he try out the spells … now? He had nothing better to do, rather than read Chapter 5, but he wasn't feeling particularly bookish at the moment.

Rather than that, he could feel the magic in his body, calling him, begging him to be used. A split second later, Harry still in his nightclothes waded down to the common room. A small fire cackled merrily at the corner where the fireplace was situated, barely lighting up the entire room.

'Perfect' he though as he dropped the book on one of the nearby chairs and pulled out his wand.

Looking around, he spotted the perfect object for his experimentation, a doll or a puppy, whatever it was, bless those first years.

'_Eademque Imperium' _Harry barely whispered, pointing his wand at the doll.

Will a miniscule jerk it popped up straight, standing or more like hovering over the couch. Not that Harry would admit it, but he felt really unnerved, just by looking into those beady black eyes of the doll. Concentrating, he willed the doll to lift its hand, albeit did so slowly.

Smirking at his success, he concentrated on the doll to complete a 360 degree spin. It spun only 90 before falling down.

'Practice Potter, Practice' he recited in his mind. He had not one but four Chapters of spell work to complete. No worries though as he had plenty of time or at least another hour he supposed.

It was 6:30, by the time Harry finished his castings. He had mastered all the spells up until Chapter-3, however, Chapter-4 would have to wait, and seeing as his fellow housemates would be filling in into the common room any time now.

He waved his wand, making all the items he had found in the common room which he had used for his practice fly back to their original locations. Wand in one hand and the Charms book in the other he crept back up to his dorm.

'Shower first' he thought, observing the thin layer of sweat coated over his body. Practicing magic extensively for an hour cost a lot, though he couldn't help but feel slightly apprehensive of his lack of magical exhaustion. Had he tried this last year, he was sure that he would've suckled to exhaustion by now.

He knew how much magic it took to cast spells repeatedly for over an hour. Hell, he didn't ace through the maze last year for nothing. The month before the third task had been spent on rapidly increasing his spell repertoire. Befuddlement jinxes, Bludgeon hexes, Damn, he couldn't remember a time when he had worked harder.

But now, Magic came to him almost naturally, as though he had found a reserve. Or more like, he had already had a reserve and had found a way to draw from it. Even though it made him slightly wary, not knowing the source or cause of his new found increased … Power … for the lack of words, he wasn't complaining. Hell, who would? Not when it might help save your life from a madman who has been pinning after you for about fourteen years.

Maybe there was a way to increase ones magic. He should probably check with some of the books in the library to explain his situation. Maybe even consult Madam Pomfrey, who would often start fussing over him at the first opportunity. He knew he was very fond of the woman, how can he not be, with her treating him with cases against Dementors, Dragons, elves and what not.

It had been fifteen minutes since he had entered the Bathroom, and here he was drowning in the shower, having not even lifted the bar of soap on the side stand. He needed to move, he had a long day ahead.

Speaking of a long day brought forth thoughts about Chang and her gang of cronies. Seamus seemed excited about the confrontation. Hogwarts was filled with rumor mills and lies and he was no newbie to them. However the most fascinating rumors seemed to be totally enveloped around him. Though he would never acknowledge it, deep down he knew that he was a celebrity, a damn popular one at that.

Sometimes he had the feel that, had he publicly declared the return of Voldemort in front of the press or among the masses, the Ministry would've been forced to admit the truth. Well, he could still try, though a part of him felt that he should allow the idiots to rot.

'Damn, when did I start thinking like this?' he thought turning off the shower and stepping out of the bathroom, a white towel wrapped around his waist. Standing in front of the mirror he observed his thin fragile body. He wasn't scrawny enough for his ribs to be visible, but enough for them to be felt. A little bit of muscle resided in the both of his arms, just like in his legs, owing to the tedious work handed out by the Dursley's summed with his Quidditch training. He really needed to eat and stuff himself more to look like a proper, normal teenager. Thoughts aside he slipped into School robes and left his dorm, his books secured inside his backpack.

The common room was empty. Knowing that the food would be served in the Great Hall by 7:15 or 7:30 he set out for the kitchens. Hopefully Dobby would be able to put something together for him to eat.

One tickled pear later he was watching numerous elves bustling about busily preparing breakfast. They all turned towards him, looking hopefully with those big round eyes.

"Harry Potter Sir!" squeaked a voice to his left.

Smiling slightly, he turned around to see Dobby. Crouching in front of the elf so as to be at the same eye level, "Hey Dobby. How are you?"

A Wrong thing to ask an elf. Tears gathered around the elf's eyes making Harry uncomfortable. "Harry Potter is a great Wizard. Harry Potter ask Dobby how he is. Dobby is honored sir"

"Ummm …. Yes … could you get me something to eat Dobby, I am awfully hungry" he said rubbing his stomach as it rumbled a little.

The elf nodded its head with its ears flapping. A few snaps of elfish fingers later, Harry was comfortably sitting on a small round table enjoying a pleasant morning meal.

He had double potions to start the day with. He had read and memorized well but he knew that it wouldn't matter with Snape, Greasy Bat. He mentally shrugged. He knew and could brew the potion correctly. That's what mattered.

He still had a lot to overcome though. Potions was last on his list of things to conquer. He needed to learn a lot of new spells not only to face Voldemort but to even match up to his inner circle Death Eaters. His luck had saved him for four years. He couldn't and wouldn't rely on it, starting from now.

Learning new spells seemed exciting. He could not help but want more of the thrill he had experienced while casting those Animation Charms. If such simple spells could get him excited, he couldn't wait to try out more complex and powerful defensive spells. He doubted whether the Hogwarts library hosted such books on Advanced Magic, maybe in the restricted section. He doubted whether anyone without an invisibility cloak would be able to access those books.

He couldn't check it out tonight. There was nothing stopping him. A small frown marred his face. Where would he be able to practice such spells, definitely not in the common room? The shrieking Shack, maybe?

"Is Harry Potter sir not liking the food?" Dobby asked breaking Harry out of his thoughts.

"What? No Dobby, I just have a small problem, nothing much" Harry easily replied.

"Dobby help Harry Potter sir. Harry Potter set Dobby free and Dobby is much happier now" the elf replied happily.

The elf did indeed seem happy. "Ummm … there isn't much you can do to help me Dobby … but … do you happen to know a place at Hogwarts where I would be able to practice magic without being disturbed or discovered"

He expected the elf's smile to vanish, his ears to droop; he expected him to say that this was impossible, or else that he would try, but his hopes were not high. … What he had not expected was for Dobby to give a little skip, his ears waggling happily, and clap his hands together.

"Dobby knows the perfect place, sir!" he said happily. "Dobby heard tell of it from the other house-elves when he came to Hogwarts, sir. It is known by us as the Come and Go Room, sir, or else as the Room of Requirement!"

"Why?" said Harry curiously.

"Because it is a room that a person can only enter," said Dobby seriously, "when they have real need of it. Sometimes it is there, and sometimes it is not, but when it appears, it is always equipped for the seeker's needs. Dobby has used it, sir," said the elf, dropping his voice and looking guilty, "when Winky has been very drunk. He has hidden her in the Room of Requirement and he has found antidotes to butterbeer there, and a nice elf-sized bed to settle her on while she sleeps it off, sir. … And Dobby knows Mr. Filch has found extra cleaning materials there when he has run short, sir, and —"

"— and if you really needed a bathroom," said Harry, suddenly remembering something Dumbledore had said at the Yule Ball the previous Christmas, "would it fill itself with chamber pots?"

"Dobby expects so, sir," said Dobby, nodding earnestly. "It is a most amazing room, sir."

"How many people know about it?" said Harry, sitting up straighter in his chair.

"Very few, sir. Mostly people stumbles across it when they needs it, sir, but often they never finds it again, for they do not know that it is always there waiting to be called into service, sir."

"It sounds brilliant," said Harry, his heart racing. "It sounds perfect, Dobby. When can you show me where it is?"

"Anytime, Harry Potter, sir," said Dobby, looking delighted at Harry's enthusiasm. "We could go now, if you like!"

Breakfast forgotten, Harry stood up grabbing his book bag in the process, "Take me there now Dobby" he said.

Before he could comprehend the elf grabbed his hand and the two of them disappeared with a Crack, reappearing on a seventh floor corridor.

"Harry Potter sir needs to walk three times in front of the painting thinking in what he wants, sir" Dobby said happily.

He stood still for a few minutes, going over what he really wanted. He could ask for anything and magic would provide it. A large part of him was still doubtful that such a room could exist.

Closing his eyes he walked past the said painting three times, Thinking hard, '_I need a place to learn magic without being discovered'._

After the third time he stared expectantly, looking around for some gate .. or something.

He looked at Dobby, the elf seemed even more excited, as if that was possible. He pulled his eyes away from the elf, to find himself staring at a door, not the wall he was previously standing in front of.

Gaping wide, he numbly pushed past the doors and walked inside. He numbly registered the door closing behind him, his emerald eyes darting from one bookshelf to another. A central area, raised on a blue platform seemed to be surrounded by a bubble of some type. The perimeter of the entire room seemed to be filled with bookshelves containing various exotic books.

There were Tomes, Scrolls, Battered Old Books which seemed centuries old, Parchments on a nearby table full of notes and what not. The entire room seemed drenched in magic. He was sure that even Ron would find it himself the desire to learn once he entered this room.

He traced his hands along the bookshelves, his fingers gliding across, _Spell Creation: The Basics, Charming the Charmed, Battle Transfiguration, The Basics of Legilimecy, An Introduction to offensive magic, etc. _He looked up to see, _Duelling _written in big bold letters on the Bookshelf.

'So these books are exclusively for duelling' he thought, as his eyes seeking out a shelf labeled Transfiguration, Charms was on the opposite side of the room.

He grinned. Harry Potter grinned a massive grin, making the room light up even more. His mouth quirked upwards, the muscles present there trying to maintain their new position having never been used in quite a few months. Even the elf watching the fifteen year old boy, felt … happy, Happy by just seeing the depressed teen that had come to him for breakfast, grin so widely.

He would train hard. He would survive. And he would live life to the fullest. Those were the three aims that Harry Potter set for himself that morning. He grin faltered a bit as he remembered where he was and what a day he was heading into. His face became steely as iron clad determination shone through his eyes.

He would return here, at five to complete his schoolwork and practice a bit more magic. Now, he needed to endure and face the immature behavior of his schoolmates. He motioned for Dobby to take him back to the kitchens.

He finished his leftover breakfast on Dobby's conjured table, and thanked the elf profusely for both breakfast and the room, which successfully created a small puddle of water in the kitchens. Saying Goodbyes to the elves he left the kitchens.

**7:00 P.M – Room of Requirement**

' … since most spells, despite their wand movements are all about the witch/wizards intent. The incantations are secondary but still play a vital role in the execution and are mostly in Latin' Harry read on. He had picked up the book he had seen on spell creation as soon as he had entered the room.

It was amazing, to say the least. It gave someone like him, who had not taken Arithmancy a wide insight on the working of spell creation. He now knew that he need not necessarily know Arithmancy to create his own spell.

Anyways, he wasn't going to attempt any spell creations until he was sure he had the basics down a one hundred percent, seeing as how the smallest mistake could leave him with severe magical exhaustion or some sort of magical explosion, which were common accidents in the field of spell creation.

Unwillingly he shut the book on Spell Creation. He had planned on finishing the Charms homework as early as possible so that he could have a lot of time for his side-studying. He browsed the Charms section for the necessary book to do his homework before settling down on a comfortable couch near the side of the Transfiguration section.

Two hours later, he had finished the Charms assignment which was due in a week. He looked at his assignment, admiring his neat loopy Handwriting, a feeling of triumph filling his body. Even Hermione would not have finished the Charms work. Now he could he go back to his extra magic learning.

His stomach rumbled loudly, making him grin, a bit more at the thought of food. Packing his bag, he carefully placed his Charms work inside it, handling it with extreme care as though it would catch fire if he held it any more roughly.

The inhabitants of Hogwarts didn't see a door mysteriously appear on the seventh floor corridor, nor did they see it open and close after a few seconds. They definitely didn't see a grinning Boy-Who-Lived under his invisibility cloak.

It was fifteen minutes past nine, and Harry was sitting once more on a conjured chair with the table in front of him filled with food. He began digging in, consuming in one meal more than what he was given for a day at the Dursleys. He vaguely recalled that he ought to go to the Great Hall, for appearances. He had also had the other two meals of the day in kitchens.

He needed to appear in the Great Hall for appearances sake. People would start wondering where he kept disappearing to and it would ultimately lead to his sanctuary being discovered. He stopped mid-bite, laying down the chicken roast. He could not allow that to happen. All his plans for the future would be in ruin.

He stomach rumbled making his raise the chicken to his mouth, taking a large bite. The cooking of the House-Elves was of first-class, but it barely registered in Harry's mind. The gears in his head were already rotating in a different direction, in the direction of self-preservance.

By the end of the meal, he had come up with a plan. Every day he would wake up early and go for breakfast at seven, before heading to the Room of Requirement. This would allow the few idiots who would be there early in the morning to spot him. He would have lunch in the kitchen on all days. Dinner, three days out of seven he would eat in the Great Hall. He would reach the Great Hall early, by half past seven in the evening on all of those three days greatly reducing the time he spent in the presence of those … Undesirable people.

Swinging his bag he grabbed a muffin. Thanking Dobby once more for the meal, he made his way towards the seventh floor not bothering with the invisibility cloak having taken out the Marauders map. The corridors were pretty empty making it easy on him.

He recalled the days events of how he had dodged Cho and her gang. The first two hours had been Charms with the Puff's. It involved no small amount of glaring from his classmates. If second year had been worse, this was … pure hate. He had sat at the last bench with Hermione, making sure that no one was behind him, a necessary precaution he was going to adopt. The huge amount of Homework had already been taken care of.

Moving on to CoMC with the Slytherins had been bearable. Malfoy hadn't been able to get close, thankfully due to Hagrid's huge workload. Hermione had been his partner and surprisingly Parvati, to whom he had maintained a civil tongue, speaking only when spoken to, in monosyllabic English save for a few instances.

After lunch, two hours of Herbology had cost Gryffindor 25 points Courtesy of Professor Sprout who had shown the maturity of a nine year old. He had shown indifference to her attitude, seeing as she was pulling herself down. She had lost her dignity in behaving as she had, the sad part being that she didn't realize it herself.

He had skived off History of Magic with the Ravenclaws, seeing as how anything that Binn's taught was not going to help him against Tom. The thought about Cho and her gang had left little to be desired in attending the class. Binn's class didn't have a roll call nor did he call out on those not attending his classes. Binn's wouldn't even notice a missing student if the entire class was empty.

He had been in his Sanctuary as he liked to call it, since 3:30 in the evening. He stopped outside the entrance walking before it, thinking of a specific place. A door appeared as usual. He stepped inside with grin. A bathroom, the size of a ball room greeted him. He placed his bag on as stand along with his wand and the marauders map before undressing and jumping into a pool sized bath.

A hot bath later saw Harry practicing the various spells he had come across that day.

"_Coloris mutatio" _he said clearly, pointing his wand at a book became a vivid red, the exact same color he had pictured in his mind.

Concentrating for a few seconds, he again murmured "_Coloris mutatio"._

This time, the book was still red but the edge became black and a circular pattern of blue, green and yellow appeared in the middle of the front cover. He smirked seeing first hand, how the effectiveness of the spell varied with his imagination and clarity in picturing the result, and Flitwick said that this spell was important for the O.W.L.S.

He glanced at his watch absently. The time was half past ten. He sighed plopping down on a nearby couch. He could go on and study offensive magic, which he had been wanting for some time, or he could go and get a good night's sleep.

After a few seconds he packed his bag and walked out of the room. He had worked for two hours in the morning. Then he had attended class, before again working on his magic. It was time for some well deserved rest.

He walked straight past an unsuspecting Filch and a sleepy Professor Sinistra under his invisibility cloak before reaching the common room. Hermione seemed to be reading in a corner with a few third years tagging about. He waited for a few seconds and to his luck a seventh year couple came along, their dresses ruffled and lips swollen both looking rather red.

He unsuspectingly slipped into the common room and sure enough saw Hermione's head snap in the direction of the portrait hole. She turned away just as quick seeing it to be just another couple. He felt a little bad, but he really didn't want to explain himself to the bushy-haired girl.

He went straight to his dorm. All his dorm-mates were fast asleep. He could see Ron wearing Quidditch robes through the opening in his curtain. He went straight to his bed, depositing his book bag on the bedside table. Slipping into his some of Dudley's old clothes he practiced clearing his mind for about half an hour before going off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter-5** **Dolores Umbridge**

* * *

Sweat poured from his body as spell after spell flew from the end of his wand. He poured his frustration, hate and every ounce of anger into each spell.

_Bombarda. Diffindo. Reducto. Perdere._

The dummy created by the Room of Requirement collapsed like a doll. A few seconds later a new one was created, courtesy the magic of the room.

He glared hard, his eyes as hard as emeralds; he brought down his wand in a flurry motion and jammed it towards the dummy whispering, _globus ignis. _A ball of fire, approximately the size of a football flew from the end of his wand shattering _and_ incinerating the dummy into a million pieces.

He was breathing hard, the frustration from the day's torture decreasing with each spell he cast.

His magic demanded revenge. It demanded justice. It demanded him to destroy those who dared to mess with him.

The rational part of his mind advised him to stay strong and endure. They were children, mere children who were petty enough to behave as such. He needed to be the better man.

But as time went by, he had a growing feeling that only _he_ was being a better man and also the man who was blamed for everything. They were seeing him as dummy, worse than the one standing in front of him. A dummy meant to take everything they threw, whether it be respect or disrespect, praises or insults, adoration or hate.

They blamed him for the Chamber. They blamed him for the Tournament and now, they were blaming him for Cedric. No they were accusing him of _murdering_ Cedric. The mindless sheep were bigots to the core. He knew what would happen next.

As soon as he had out flown the Dragon they had all come crawling back claiming to have forgiven him for entering the tournament. He knew very well that the same was going to happen.

Voldemort was back. It was the Cold Hard truth. Sooner or later he would come out into the open. They would all come back crawling, pushing the burden of defeating the Dark Lord onto his shoulders while bestowing upon his some other ridiculous title.

He sighed, dropping down on the nearby couch. Groaning, he sank into a meditative stance preparing to clear to his mind.

He subconsciously went through the day's events.

* * *

Harry was awake by 4:30. Shrugging off the oddity of the hour he went by the usual routine of using Brush, Bath and everything before heading off towards the RoR. He was in the great hall by 7:30 sharp. Four Sandwiches and some tasty bacon later he was on his way outside which lead to his first piece of unpleasantness of the day.

Malfoy.

"Alright there Scarhead?" came the same classic insult. Some people never change.

His green eyes sought out the grey ones of his rival. He rolled his eyes, ignoring the insult and the trio of idiots.

He walked past them. They were not worthy of his time. They were insects compared to the dark lord that was after him. He has spent the last four years fighting and arguing with Malfoy. He was above the blonde ponce now. The idiot was below his stature.

Apparently Malfoy didn't like being ignored.

His answer was a Buckling Hex, from behind he might add.

Harry Potter was no slouch. His senses screamed a warning the second the spell left Malfoys wand. He easily stepped aside, the curse flying harmlessly over his shoulder. He turned around using the spin to unsheathe his wand.

_Expelliarmus._

The Malfoy heir never expected Harry to retaliate albeit so fast, so he never bothered to prepare himself. His wand deftly flew from his hand and into Harry's outstretched arm. The Power from the spell knocked him backwards. He landed on his butt a few meters from where he originally was.

_Aculeus._

An overpowered stinging Hex left the blonde biting his tongue, drawing blood to prevent himself from screaming. Crabbe and Goyle had drawn their wands, ready to defend their leader. Crabbe threw a Hex, it was purplish in color. Harry's attention shifted to the two big bullies, his green eyes focused as he calculated the threat.

A simple _Protego _dismissed the hex like it was nothing. Goyle's spell impacted with his shield a moment later and Harry was pleased to note that his shield was still on, although its color had dimmed. It could take on one more spell.

_Stupefy. Incarceous._

Carbbe dodged the stunner, moving as expected into the line of the binding spell. He fell down in a pack of vines bound like a present. Harry turned his attention towards the remaining two, among which one was wandless.

_Anteoculatia._

Harry couldn't resist firing off the Hex at the enraged Malfoy. Goyle was useless, even with a wand. But a spell from him in retaliation to the Hex on Malfoy destroyed his shield.

"POTTER"

The loud voice of the Potions Master of Hogwarts rang through the hall. Harry sighed knowing what was going to happen. He lowered his wand.

A big mistake. Goyle's cutting flew straight ahead. Eyes widening he threw his body to the left, the curse scraping his arm but most of it passing away harmlessly.

"Duelling in the Corridor's" he shouted, "twenty points from Gryffindor"

He sheathed his wand glaring at the Potions Master. This man deserved no respect. He was the most immature being in existence. Throwing Malfoy's wand straight into his smirking face, he turned his back on Snape, walking outside.

It took a while for the Potions Master to realize that his favorite target wasn't going to argue. Taking five more points from Gryffindor he waved his wand over his godsons face, vanishing the antlers, muttering a healing spell for the bruise from the stinging hex. He growled annoyance when the bruise didn't fade immediately. Two spells later the boys face was again spotless.

Harry stormed outside of the castle cursing Snape. He plopped down near the lake. He liked this particular spot as it often gave him a soothing sensation. He allowed the memory of showing Malfoy his place to plague his mind. A small smirk worked its way onto his face.

He relaxed outside, the cool breeze ruffling his messy hair giving him a rugged look. He took of his glasses, observing the round out of fashion thing that looked as though it was taken out of a trash can. Harry idly wondered if there were Optometrists in the Wizarding world. Surely there had to be a potion or other that could heal his eyes. He filed the thought for later research in the Room of Requirement.

He had History of magic first thing in the morning followed by Divination and then DADA in the afternoon. Oh well, he was only going to attend DADA, Divination and History of Magic were both a waste of time. He absently glanced at his watch, it was 8:06. He picked up his bag, threw the customary invisibility cloak around him and made his way to the Room of Requirement.

It was around twelve when Harry came to the kitchens for his lunch. It was a quiet affair with Dobby providing him with more and more food, until he was literally stuffed. He had spent the time usefully till 10:30 going over all the theory and a wide variety of spells he had made a list of that he needed to learn. He had twenty five spells up until now, which he planned to master in the next two days. He was going to relax for the time being before heading off to DADA at half past one.

Maybe a small nap, he decided changing his course towards the Gryffindor common room. Setting the alarm to 1:15 he went off to a peaceful slumber.

* * *

Daphne Greengrass considered herself as a ruthlessly logical person, her main attribute being able to easily discern her adversaries' thoughts; the ability to relate people's actions to their emotions was way too easy for her. She watched Malfoy proclaiming loudly as to how he would destroy Potter, wrap him up in a neat little package and present him to the Dark Lord. Everyone knew that Malfoy now thought himself as the ruler of Slytherin, a level of respect that was usually earned by the upper years, usually the seventh years who had proven to be the best witch or wizard in the house of cunning. Being cunning was not one of Malfoy's finer attributes, not that he had any other to begin with.

However everyone in the common room knew that Malfoy currently held power. She was pretty sure that everyone in the room had received an invitation from the Dark Lord, and Lucius Malfoy, as a political monster and great tactician was at the top of the Death-Eaters hierarchy. Antagonizing Heir Malfoy, who was nothing but a spoiled braggart who would go crying to his father at the first chance, could make life difficult for the other Slytherins. Hence was the reason the blonde twit had not yet been Hexed.

Daphne closed the Defense book that she had wasted her money on. It was useless to study, a book that had no reference whatsoever to using spells or practicing defensive techniques, the ministry's stupidity at its finest. How was Hogwarts going to produce any half a decent Aurors when there was practically no mention of using spells. It was the Ministry's way of interfering in Potter's life while attempting to show that Dumbledore was not the one in control.

Daphne knew all about Dolores Umbridge, the toad was the worst among the bigots that plagued the British society. True, there were bigots in every country, she had visited quite a few with her mother, but nowhere was it as bad as the issue was at Britain.

Her best friend Tracey Davies plopped down on the couch in the common room beside her, giving her a childish grin. Her friend was the bubbliest person she knew of, and she was a redhead, not a blonde.

Daphne whipped a strand of her golden honey blonde hair behind her ear and gave Tracey an enquiring look.

"Hello Pretty Girl, Shall we move to DADA?" Tracey said with a teasing smile.

"Isn't Blaise coming?" Daphne asked.

"Oh, he's not here. He said that he would meet us in DADA, said that he had to go to the library" Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott were somewhat tolerable people. Though Nott's father was a well known Death-Eater though Daphne knew the mousy haired boy was harmless.

"Then let's go" she said and the two friends departed from the common room.

Daphne and Tracey passed by Malfoy bullying a few Hufflepuff first years. The blonde twat tried to appear as though he was the one in power in front of the ladies from his house. As usual, they looked along blankly, sporting an indifferent attitude when the twat talked to them, slithering away once he was done speaking. During the first two years when Daphne had hexed the Blonde twat life had become _painful_ for her courtesy of her father. Had it not been for her mother, Daphne shuddered to think as how she would have grown up under her father's influence? Probably like a puppet, spouting bigoted words, trained to be a completely dumb pretty doll that was meant to be nothing but a trophy.

_Like Astoria._

Each and every attempt that she had tried to sway her sister towards her side had resulted in failure. The girl had taken her father's words to heart, making it her life's ambition to one day be known as, Lady Malfoy. Since Draco had openly shown that he was interested in the elder Greengrass sister, noticeably the prettier of the two the sibling relationship that they had preserved through their father's mind games was shattered.

Daphne knew that their father was not a man that needed to be respected or followed. He was, to the society a man who held a vote in the Wizengamot, a proper pureblood who followed all customs, ran a profitable business and had a very beautiful wife.

They didn't know just how rotten their dad was on the inside. They didn't know that he had been one of the Death-Eaters at the World Cup a year ago. They didn't know that he often went out with Lucius Malfoy in the middle of the night. And most of all, that he took the Dark Mark a month ago. The Greengrass's had remained neutral in the last war courtesy of her grandfather who had refused to take the dark mark but had agreed to stay out of the conflict. Her father was a very ambitious person, a trait that had led their family to a dark path.

Astoria had then begun to gradually shift towards her father after an altercation with their mother. Her mom, Elizabeth had tried to patch the gap between her two daughters from time to time, only for Astoria to fall further into their father's grasps with each try. Daphne knew that she herself looked overwhelmingly like her mom with her eye color being the only attribute that she had gotten from her dad.

Her sister on the other hand had inherited the crooked and rough look that their father had, thus making Daphne the prettier of the two sisters. It had never been an issue until Malfoy came into the picture. While she had wanted nothing to do with the blonde haired twit ever since he had insulted her best friend Tracey when they were kids, of being filthy, Astoria had always been smitten immediately by the polite pureblood act of the boy that she had seen at the parties who spoke of customs and revolutions he would bring about in the Wizarding World.

The result was observed by Tracey as she watched the Greengrass sisters pass each other on the corridor without so much as a nod. To the entire world they may not be related at all. In fact Tracey doubted that anyone beyond Slytherin knew of the fact that the two were sisters. She didn't care for Astoria as she knew that her best friend's sister held her in the same regard as Malfoy, it didn't bother her much but the slight coloring of Daphne's eyes worried her. She knew that the blonde still loved her sister, even if the girl was a real bitch. Behind the pureblood Ice Princess mask that Daphne wore, Tracey knew that she was her mother Elizabeth through and through.

They reached the Defense classroom and were surprised to find it nearly empty. Granger was sitting in the front row, with Blaise at the last but second row. Their friend waved them over and three settled in two adjacent desks. They conversed quietly among themselves and Nott slid into the seat next to Daphne with a barely murmured, 'Hey'.

The Gryffindor lions came next, Ronald Weasley leading Thomas and Finnigan an arrogant smirk marring their faces as a giggling Patil and Brown followed. Daphne frowned at seeing that Potter was not with them. The two were known to be the best of friends throughout the school. She looked to her side to see that Tracey too was sporting a frown.

The lions settled down on the other side of the classroom at the back. Weasley got up and walked up to Granger, whispering something in her ear, unaware of the attention he was getting from the four Slytherins in the room.

Granger snapped something with a huff and look of blatant disapproval making Weasley growl before he retreated back to his seat. Malfoy and his gang came after, starting a fight with the lions at the back, that both parties didn't notice a very sleepy Potter arrive at the classroom. The boy noticeably yawned before plopping down next to Granger. Malfoy soon settled in front of her directing a glare at the back of potter's head as Professor Umbridge entered the room.

Daphne was confused, seeing as Weasley had never left Potter's side, save for those few weeks before the first task the year. To see him openly avoiding Potter was not part of the routine.

Umbridge sat down at the teacher's desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head. Daphne was again reminded forcibly of a large fly perched unwisely on top of an even larger toad.

The class was quiet under Professor Umbridge's scrutiny. She was as of yet, an unknown quantity and nobody knew yet how strict a disciplinarian she was likely to be.

"Well, good afternoon!" the toad said when finally the whole class had sat down.

Very few people mumbled "Good afternoon," in reply.

"Tut, tut," said Professor Umbridge. "_That _won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," they chanted back at her.

"There, now," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

Many of the class exchanged gloomy looks; the order "wands away" had never yet been followed by a lesson they had found interesting. Daphne shoved her wand back inside his bag and pulled out quill, ink, and parchment. Professor Umbridge opened her handbag, extracted her own wand, which was an unusually short one, and tapped the blackboard sharply with it; words appeared on the board at once:

**Defense Against the Dark Arts - A Return to Basic Principles.**

"Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?" stated Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. "The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year.

"You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year." She smiled sweetly down at all of them.

"Copy down the following, please." She rapped the blackboard again; the first message vanished and was replaced by a list of three aims which Daphne felt ridiculously stupid when copying down.

As the last noise of a scratching quill stopped she said, "Has everybody got a copy of

_Defensive Magical Theory _by Wilbert Slinkhard?"

Everyone nodded, "Good," said Professor Umbridge. "I should like you to turn to page five and read chapter one, 'Basics for Beginners.' There will be no need to talk." She gave a smile at the end making Daphne's lip curl in disgust.

The class collectively groaned before pulling out the book from their respective bags. Daphne herself knew that the book was a load of Dragon Shit, though she nonetheless pulled it out and opened up the first page, a vicious scowl marring her pretty face.

It was desperately dull, quite as bad as listening to Professor Binns. Daphne felt her concentration sliding away from him; she had soon read the same line half a dozen times without taking in more than the first few words. Several silent minutes passed. Next to her, Nott was absentmindedly turning his quill over and over in his fingers, staring at the same spot on the page.

Daphne looked up from her book and received a surprise. Granger had not even opened her copy of _Defensive Magical Theory. _She was staring fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air.

The students in the DADA classroom couldn't remember a time when Hermione Granger ever neglected to read when instructed to, or indeed resisting the temptation to open any book that came under her nose. She was staring at Professor Umbridge intently, who was looking just as resolutely in another direction. Daphne nudged Nott, her friend looked up and frowned. He looked at her questioningly and she shrugged.

After several more minutes had passed, however, Nott was not the only one watching Granger. The chapter they had been instructed to read was so tedious that more and more people were choosing to watch Granger's mute attempt to catch Professor Umbridge's eye than to struggle on with "Basics for Beginners."

When more than half the class started staring at Hermione rather than at their books, Professor Umbridge seemed to decide that she could no longer ignore the situation.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" she asked Granger, as though she had only just noticed her.

"Not about the chapter, no," said Granger

"Well, we're reading just now," said Professor Umbridge, showing her small, pointed teeth. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

"I've got a query about your course aims," said Hermione. Professor Umbridge raised her eyebrows.

"And your name is —?"

"Hermione Granger," said Granger. Daphne's sneer became more pronounced at the slight curl in Umbridge's lips at recognizing the girl as a muggle born.

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully," said Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.

"Well, I don't," said Granger bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about _using _defensive spells."

There was a short silence in which many members of the class turned their heads to frown at the three course aims still written on the blackboard. Daphne had to shake her head at Granger's foolish question. It was painfully obvious that Umbridge wanted them to fail in DADA what with, the book, the instruction, the attitude and everything.

"_Using _defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to _use _a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

"We're not going to use magic?" Weasley ejaculated loudly. Tracey shook her head on the other side, covering her ears in mock pain at the loudness of Weasley's voice.

"Students raise their hands and lower their voice when they wish to speak in my class, Mr. —?"

"Weasley," said the redhead, thrusting his hand into the air turning a bit pink.

Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turned her back on him. Granger immediately raised her hands too. Professor Umbridge's pouchy eyes lingered on Potter for a moment before she addressed Granger. Daphne snorted at Umbridge's blatant attempt to rile up Potter. The Gryffindor golden boy would no doubt start shouting to the world that the Dark Lord was back in a few minutes.

"Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?"

"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" asked Professor Umbridge in her falsely sweet voice, making Daphne wonder if Umbridge had a bit of Slytherin in her.

"No, but —"

"Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the 'whole point' of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way —"

"What use is that?" said Weasley loudly. "If we're going to be attacked it won't be in a —"

"_Hand, _Mr. Weasley!" sang Professor Umbridge.

Weasley thrust his fist in the air. Professor Umbridge promptly turned away from him again, but now several other people had their hands up too.

"And your name is?" Professor Umbridge said to Thomas.

"Dean Thomas."

"Well, Mr. Thomas?"

"Well, it's like Ron said, isn't it?" said Dean. "If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk-free —"

"I repeat," said Professor Umbridge, smiling in a very irritating fashion at Thomas, "do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"

"No, but —" Professor Umbridge talked over him.

"I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school," she said, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed — not to mention," she gave a nasty little laugh, "extremely dangerous half-breeds."

"If you mean Professor Lupin," piped up Finnigan angrily, "he was the best we ever —"

"_Hand, _Mr. Finnigan! As I was saying — you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day —"

"No we haven't," Granger, "we just —"

"_Your hand is not up, Miss Granger_!" Hermione put up her hand; Professor Umbridge turned away from her. "It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them _on _you —"

"Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?" said Dean Thomas hotly. "Mind you, we still learned loads —"

Daphne mentally sighed. Gryffindor's were never good for any arguments. They tended to be brash, illogical and irritating. Raising your voice against someone who had indirectly declared by the use of '_the Ministry' _in almost every sentence that 'You can't do anything about this'

"_Your hand is not up, Mr. Thomas_!" trilled Professor Umbridge.

"Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?" she added, staring at Parvati, whose hand had just shot up

"Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter-curses and things?"

"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions," said Professor Umbridge dismissively.

"Without ever practicing them before?" said Parvati incredulously.

"Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?"

"I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough —"

"And what good's theory going to be in the real world?" said Finnigan loudly, his fist in the air again.

Professor Umbridge looked up.

"This is school, Mr. Finnigan, not the real world," she said softly.

"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?"

"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Weasley."

"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" inquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice.

"Oh, yeah. What about the dark wizards in Azkaban? There are more of them out there" Weasley shouted.

"Now, let me make a few things quite plain." Professor Umbridge stood up and leaned toward them, her stubby fingered hands splayed on her desk. "You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead —" Here the toad looked directly at Potter who was … doodling was it?

"Once again, I must repeat that this is a _lie" _the entire class was now looking at Potter, who for the first time looked up directly into the eyes of the Professor.

"Is that right Mr. Potter" Umbridge's eye twitched as the target didn't rise up to the bait.

"If you say so _Professor_" the last word was said in such a sarcastic manner that it made Daphne wince.

"Then say it to everyone Mr. Potter" Umbridge said tersely.

"Say what professor?" Potter appeared to be honestly confused.

"Admit to the class that your claims at the end of last year were all lies" Umbridge growled out.

"Oh" Potter's eyes seemed to glaze over as he seemed to think for a few minutes, the class watched in silence. He shook his head suddenly and turned to Umbridge, "What were you saying again _professor_? I have this bad habit of getting distracted in the middle of important things" the same sarcastic emphasis on the last word.

"The truth, Mr. Potter" Umbridge yelled.

"Truth?" Potter replied with a honestly confused expression.

"The truth that people deserve to know" Umrbridge was blowing a vein by now.

"You mean the one about how a fifteen year old underage wizard who was tried in a full course criminal trial for a simple case of underage magic in front of the entire Wizengamot?" Potter said in a single monotone. "The Prophet conveniently failed to publish that one didn't it".

"How dare you?" Umbridge was going to kill Potter.

"Or the one about how much the standard of education has dropped at Hogwarts, what with the DADA teacher being an undersecretary to the minister who was appointed in a not so subtle way to spy on the Headmaster" Daphne shook her head at the blatant Gryffindorish behavior.

"Mr. Potter Stop th-"

"Or the fact that the DADA teacher is completely incapable of teaching the students anything let alone defense and is a nothing but a pathetic high class bigoted toad who is so ugly that the only person willing to hire her as an undersecretary is Cornelius Fudge" Potter was on a roll.

"Mr. Pott-"

"Maybe the one about how Cornelius Fudge is so busy taking bribes from Lucius Malfoy that he doesn't have time to actually run the ministry himself"

"That's eno-"

"Oh, the truth can also be about how the minister arrested a completely innocent man under the pretext that the Ministry must been seen doing something three years back"

"I order you to st-"

"Oh, how about this. The fact that a Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Black was sent to Azkaban prison without even a trial" The class gasped in horror at both the words coming out of Potter's mouth and the audacity of the insults.

Umbridge was looking like a lunatic what with the murderous expression on her face.

"Professor, if those truth's are enough, now please, may I get back to my reading" Umbridge struggled to say something. Her pea sized brain was still processing the insults and insinuations.

"DETENTION Mr. Potter, for the rest of the week, tonight at six. Class dismissed" Umbridge finally yelled running into her room in panic.

Daphne frowned as Potter left the room, the first one to go. Such blatant abuse of an obviously high political figure could lead to nothing but danger. Potter had just made a huge enemy out of Umbridge. Though the woman was a weakling in terms of magical power, she had connections that could make her potentially lethal.

Potter needed someone to keep him in line.

* * *

At five to seven Harry set off for Umbridge's office on the third floor. Herbology had been

When he knocked on the door she said, "Come in," in a sugary voice. He entered cautiously, looking around. He had known this office under three of its previous occupants.

In the days when Gilderoy Lockhart had lived here it had been plastered in beaming portraits of its owner. When Lupin had occupied it, it was likely you would meet some fascinating Dark creature in a cage or tank if you came to call. In the impostor Moody's days it had been packed with various instruments and artifacts for the detection of wrongdoing and concealment.

Now, however, it looked totally unrecognizable. The surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases full of dried flowers, each residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicolor kitten wearing a different bow around its neck. These were so foul that Harry stared at them, transfixed, until Professor Umbridge spoke again.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter." Harry started and looked around. He had not noticed her at first because she was wearing a luridly flowered set of robes that blended only too well with the tablecloth on the desk behind her.

"Evening," Harry said stiffly.

"Well, sit down," she said, pointing toward a small table draped in lace beside which she had drawn up a straight-backed chair. A piece of blank parchment lay on the table, apparently waiting for him.

"Er," said Harry, without moving. "Professor Umbridge? Er — before we start, I-I wanted to ask you a . . . a favor."

Her bulging eyes narrowed.

"Oh yes?"

"Well I'm . . . I'm on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And I was supposed to be at the tryouts for the new Keeper at five o'clock on Friday and I was — was wondering whether I could skip detention that night and do it — do it another night . . . instead . . ." He knew long before he reached the end of his sentence that it was no good. Maybe he should have held his temper in class. Well, it was worth a try.

"Oh no," said Umbridge, smiling so widely that she looked as though she had just swallowed a particularly juicy fly. "Oh no, no, is your punishment for spreading evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, Mr. Potter, and punishments certainly cannot be adjusted to suit the guilty one's convenience. No, you will come here at six o'clock tomorrow, and on Friday too, and you will do your detentions as planned. I think it rather a good thing that you are missing something you really want to do. It ought to reinforce the lesson I am trying to teach you."

Harry felt the blood surge to his head and heard a thumping noise in his ears. So he told evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories, did he? She was watching him with her head slightly to one side, still smiling widely, as though she knew exactly what he was thinking and was waiting to see whether he would start shouting again. With a massive effort Harry looked away from her, dropped his schoolbag beside the straight-backed chair, and sat down. It had been nearly a day since he had done any Occlumency and his emotions were running high. He needed to focus or he could blow something up.

"There," said Umbridge sweetly, "we're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we? Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Mr. Potter. No, not with your quill," she added, as Harry bent down to open his bag. "You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are." She handed him a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point.

"I want you to write 'I must not tell lies,' " she told him softly.

"How many times?" Harry asked, with a creditable imitation of politeness.

"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in," said Umbridge sweetly. "Off you go." She moved over to her desk, sat down, and bent over a stack of parchment that looked like essays for marking. Harry raised the sharp black quill and then realized what was missing.

"You haven't given me any ink," he said.

"Oh, you won't need ink," said Professor Umbridge with the merest suggestion of a laugh in her voice.

Harry placed the point of the quill on the paper and wrote: I must not tell lies. He let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Harry's right hand, cut into his skin as though traced there by a scalpel — yet even as he stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth. Harry looked around at Umbridge. She was watching him, her wide, toad like mouth stretched in a smile.

"Yes?"

"Nothing," said Harry quietly.

He looked back at the parchment, placed the quill upon it once more, wrote I must not tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of his hand for a second time; once again the words had been cut into his skin, once again they healed over seconds later. And on it went. Again and again Harry wrote the words on the parchment in what he soon came to realize was not ink, but his own blood. And again and again the words were cut into the back of his hand, healed, and then reappeared the next time he set quill to parchment.

He knew that what he had in his hand was an illegal artifact. The nasty bitch was torturing him. He could feel his magic twitching just beneath his fingers. How had the bitch smuggled a vile thing such as this inside the castle? He wanted to take out his wand and blast the smug smile off the toads face. He purposefully reigned in his emotions. He thought of his parents, their smiling faces in the Mirror of Erised. They were with him, now and always. He felt a sense of calm overcome his senses. The anger still lurked beneath but it was contained, to be used later when he researched a way of revenge. After detention he was going to do some research on this bloddy quill.

Darkness fell outside Umbridge's window. Harry did not ask when he would be allowed to stop. He did not even check his watch. He knew she was watching him for signs of weakness and he was not going to show any, not even if he had to sit here all night, cutting open his own hand with this quill. . . .

"Come here," she said, after what seemed hours.

He stood up. His hand was stinging painfully. When he looked down at it he saw that the cut had healed, but that the skin there was red raw.

"Hand," she said.

He extended it. She took it in her own. Harry repressed a shudder as she touched him with her thick, stubby fingers on which she wore a number of ugly old rings.

"Tut, tut, I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet," she said, smiling. "Well, we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we? You may go."

Harry left her office without a word. The school was quite deserted; it was surely past midnight. He needed to get to the RoR to vent some of his frustration.

Just as he took the next turn a he used his hand to push himself away from the wall as a spell whizzed past where his stomach had been moments ago. He dropped his school bag wand whipping into his hand, which was already red and sore with the pain from whatever quill the toad had made him use.

Michael Corner and Cho Chang stood in front of him with their wands out. Corner looked neutral but Chang had an expression of fury etched on her face. He was at a four corridors meet point. The left corridor was flanked by Anthony Goldstein and the right one by Marietta Edgecombe. Harry eyed them speculatively, trying to come up with a nice way to walk away without creating a fight.

"Tell me Harry, what were Cedric's last words when he found out that you wanted to kill him" Cho asked in a voice laced with extreme hate.

"Cho, you don't have to do this. I meant what I said last year. I'm not lying when I say that Voldemort is back" Harry said warily eying the angry girl.

"That's right. You would never have been able to take my Cedric in a duel. You killed him from behind didn't you? You cast the killing curse on him when he wasn't even looking. That's the only way you could beat him Potter. He was better than you in every way" Cho raged on.

Harry used this talk to get a good view of the people flanking him. Edgecombe's grip was strong, the wand shaking in her hand. An easy target. Goldstein on his left seemed to be adept projecting a confident look. Corner was good at theory, but other than that, he was an unknown. Cho was the top of her class, making her the highest threat.

Harry knew that he himself was in a very distressed situation. His magic was urging him use these Raven's as dummies to vent his frustration. The day had been very taxing on him.

"Cho, Cedric was a great wizard. He was the real Hogwarts Champion yes, but bele-" He stepped aside easily as another Hex flew from Cho's wand.

"DON'T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT HIM YOU MURDERER!" Cho yelled.

_Harry snapped.  
_

He twirled his hand and send a disarming hex towards Edgecombe to his right before spinning by a ninety and launching a _Stupefy_ at Corner. Edgecombe barely put up a shield in time considering she had never expected Potter to move so fast let lone unleash a spell that powerful. The _Expelliarmus_ slammed into her shield destroying it a second later like it was nothing before moving on to disarm her. her wand flew behind her by a few feet and the backslash knocker her down. She scrambled towards her wand.

Harry meanwhile completed his spin, reaching a one-eighty degrees and firing a _Petrificus Totalus_ at Goldstein. He dropped to the ground as soon as the spell left his wand, with two more spells passing where his hand and chest had been courtesy of Cho and Goldstein. Corner conjured a _Protego_ that shattered under his stunning spell, the magical backslash leaving the boy off balance.

Anthony fired off a stunner as soon he saw Potter snap off a Hex towards Marietta. He paused seeing Potter spin a one-eight degrees before dropping to the ground expertly, flipping off a spell towards him inches before he hit the ground. He barely put up a _Protego_ as the stunner slammed its way past his shield and threw him a good three feet back, his wand slipping from his hand. He watched in shock as Potter converted his fall to the floor into a roll, stepping into the corridor where he had fallen, using the to break the line of sight from Cho and Michael and send a S_tupefy_ towards him before his vision turned black.

Marietta successfully crawled towards her wand, feeling the warmth as she held it again in her hand. She looked to see Potter stun Anthony, now away from the line of vision of Cho and Michael. She hastily sent a flimsy Jinx towards him that he dodged with ease before snapping a stunner in her direction leaving not time to raise a shield and taking her out.

Harry knew that he was not done yet. His eyes fell on the suit of armor that stood to his side on the corridor. Howarts had hundreds of such suits, a proof that the castle was at least a millennia old. Spells flew from the corner and impacted on the walls making him aware that Chang and Corner were still there. It appeared that they were edging towards him slowly.

_Eademque Imperium._

The suit of armor came to life and Harry grinned as he commanded it to charge towards the two idiots around the corner. He ran behind the knight ,the screams when a knight clad in silver charged around the corner was music to his ears. He stepped from behind the knight just after two spells impacted on its armor, snapping two stunners towards the two idiots who were distracted by the armor charging towards them.

The second that the stunning spell left his wand, the armor that was less than a feet from Michael collapsed with a heavy clang that echoed through the halls of Hogwarts. The two Ravenclaws fell as Harry hurriedly donned his invisibility cloak from his school bag fleeing into the darkness of the hall's of Hogwarts, anger rising as his mind recalled the reason for this act of bullying. He ran not in the direction of the Gryffindor tower, but towards the seventh floor corridor where he could vent some of his frustration.

He was completely oblivious to the disillusioned pair of blue eyes that had watched the duel between the Lion and the four Ravens with fascinated interest.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Hey there guys. Long time, ya I know. I'll try to make frequent updates from now. Hey'a Stranger will be updated in a few days. 3K words are done. Just 1K words more, then editing.**

**About the chapter, if there are any errors please let me know, review or PM me. Sorry, I don't have a beta for this fic.**

**This is not a bashing fic. People just don't know any better. They are just immature. Ron is like that, he just wants new friends. Hermione, she is with Harry. For other Ravenclaws, Cho loved Cedric hence the reaction.**

**People generally duel at night at Hogwarts. Being BWL kept Harry out of it, thanks to his fame. Last year he became a bit unpopular and now even more so. So, people are now forgetting that he is the BWL and taking out their anger on him like they would do on any other student. **

**I know that the fic is bit of ANGST, but wait, a special person is coming in to make it better. I meant Daphne. She has to, right? It's the main pairing. Don't worry, Harry will have plenty of adventures throughout his fifth year, that is till the story hits the 100K mark. Beyond that is the real fun and even I can't will till the story get's to that. But, I will take a lot of time to build up the HP/DG relationship. It's necessary. **

**For now please bare with this moody Harry. He'll become a real new person a few chapters down the line when he drops off everything and accepts his role as how the son of Lily and James should act.**

**Other than that do give me more suggestions to improve.**

**Next Update: Give me two weeks or so.**


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